Of Femmes and Sparklings
by Midnight De Levella
Summary: G1/Movieverse. A virus from Starscream turns the Autobot base into a place of romance and angst. But can the power of love conquer all? Multiple pairings, NO SLASH and lots of Oc's mixed with lots of actual characters. Sort of on-hold.
1. Arrival

A/N: Ok, this is basically me hooking up my favourite characters with oc's. Cos there is just not enough femmebots in the freaking autobot army. And they almost never get any screen time. This is probably going to be long, so bear with me. This story has the purpose of basically getting everyone together. You know all the disclaimers.

**Of Femmes and Sparklings - Arrival**

A tall female silhouette standing on the dark command deck of the _Furtive Star_ battleship. All but a few femmes were in re-charge. Certainly not this femme. No, she had a duty to protect those under her command. And there were so few left now.

Blue optics observed the blue and green planet that she was following the _Ark_ to. She had read the data pads. An organic planet where they could both hide and fight, protect and be protected. She had read of the forms they were to scan from Teletraan as soon as they landed.

But one thing you couldn't read on a data pad no matter how one tried to inscribe it, was how your bondmate was.

Elita-one sighed. Too many years she had been away from Optimus. Their bond was still there, but it felt stale and old like the oldest part of the now destroyed Cybertron. She needed him, he needed her. It was that simple. They had the potential now, to continue the spirit of Cybertron on the new planet.

"I am coming, my darling. Soon we will be re-united once more, my love," Elita whispered. She felt her vocaliser crackle as she spoke. The melancholy in her spark felt like a disease that messed with all her functions. And she knew Chromia and Moonracer were not faring much better.

Placing a slim hand over her spark, Elita turned and left the command deck.

**On the Ark**

Sitting at a nondescript desk in a plain office was an average sized mech with a black and white paint-job and doorwings. The Praxian was concentrated on his work, but also thinking. A rumble echoed around the ship.

Prowl, the second in command of the Autobots, felt a surge of relief when the _Ark_ first entered the Earth's atmosphere. At first he had been worried they would have been attacked, for the communicator had blown. But his worries had been unfounded; they had not been attacked...yet.

Now his primary worries were for the care of all the mechs in the _Ark_. Once they touched down on Earth, they would need enough space to house Autobots and Neutral mechs. They were all that was left of Cybertron now. Together they had destroyed Shockwave's forces and left him stranded on Cybertron.

Prowl smirked as he recalled how his plan had effectively destroyed all the Decepticon ships.

'_And finding the Femmes by Alpha Centauri had been an unexpected stroke of luck,'_ thought Prowl, pulling a data pad towards him from the stack on his desk.

The femmes had left Cybertron not long after the attack on Airol, the femme city. The attack had been an order from Shockwave as soon as Megatron and Optimus Prime had left to find the all-spark. All the femmes in Cybertron were thought to have perished in the Neutral city, thus extinguishing the hope for Cybertronians to continue as a race.

To find the Autobot femmes hiding on their way to Earth had boosted the morale of the mechs in the _Ark_. Prowl had immediately transferred himself onto the _Furtive Star _to talk to Elita. She had not let him see any other femmes but herself, but had informed him there were only 51 femmes with her.

Now Prowl felt the ship accelerating due to the planet's gravity.

'_We are here Optimus...answering your call...at last.'_

**.**

**On Earth**

Sideswipe was bored in their new...huge...base. He was on duty at the surveillance monitors of Teletraan – 2. His silver form was slumped in his chair as he idly doodled on a datapad.

'_Boring. Bored. Boooooorrrrrring. Dull. Tedious...mind-numbing. Wishing you were here Sunstreaker. I want my red paint job back,' _the silver mech thought. He couldn't even prank anyone!

Ratchet had locked himself in the medbay with Jolt to teach him more...medical stuff Sideswipe guessed.

Bumblebee had gone to visit Sam and Mikaela.

Ironhide was doing drills with Epps, Lennox and co.

Optimus was (joyfully) escorting Galloway somewhere far away from their base for the last time.

Jazz was re-charging in his quarters, needing the rest after recently being brought back to life by Sam and the Matrix of Leadership. The silver visored mech would have enjoyed a prank, but Ratchet would surely drive a wrench though Sideswipes head if he did.

Sideswipe sighed. He wanted some ACTION!

Then there was an alert from Teletraan. Lazily Sideswipe leaned forward and read the message. His optics widened to an impossible size he saw the video feed of two Cybertronian ships descending towards Earth.

Swiftly hitting the inter-com button so that all Autobots on Earth could receive a com-link, Sideswipe joyfully called, "Hey guys, guess what? We've got two fragging big ships of Autobots incoming. They are here, the rest of them are here!"

Then he felt a curious tug on his spark. Gasping, Sideswipe felt his brother re-affirm the bond.

'_Sideswipe!'_

'_Sunny! Primus how I missed your sulky aft! Here are the co-ordinates, give them to Prowl. Get down here as soon as you can!'_

"_Aft. It's been boring without you.'_

'_Ditto.'_

'_Huh?'_

'_Earth slang, bro. I'll tell you all about it...'_ And with that last communiqué, Sideswipe ran off to the paint storage room. Red had Sideswipe's name all over it.

.

Against the afternoon sun, 7 robots stood facing the east, where they expected the Cybertronian ships to land. Optimus was at the front of the group. Ratchet and Ironhide at his sides, Bumblebee and Jazz at Ironhides right, Sideswipe and Jolt on Ratchets left. Sam, Lennox and Epps were lounging on an army jeep not too far away.

Optimus tensed his frame in worry. That day when he had driven back to their new sprawling base hidden in the Rocky mountains, he had thought of nothing but Elita. Was she well? How many femme did she lose, if any? Optimus restrained his sigh. He could not allow his brigade to see his worry.

"_Relax Prime, I'm sure they're fine. Prowl would have told us if that wasn't the case," _commed Ratchet. Darting his optics to the side briefly, Optimus gave Ratchet a slight nod before surveying the rest of his troops. Bumblebee and Jolt were standing still as possible. Sideswipe and Jazz were relaxed, Ironhide and Ratchet were somewhere in the middle of the two extremes.

"So...why are there two ships?" asked Sam, looking up from his Spiderman comic.

"Because one are the mechs, and one is the femme battleship," replied Ratchet.

Sam scrunched his nose in thought, "How many Cybertronians are you expecting?"

"Mechs: we are unsure of, but there are Neutrals mixed in with that number. But there are around 50 femmes," Optimus said, keeping his optics trained on the sky.

Lennox joined the conversation, saying, "How many did there used to be in both sections of the Autobots army?"

"What is this, 20 questions?" grinned Jazz.

"I'm curious."

Optimus turned to look at their human allies. "Far more than there are now. For a planet, Cybertrons population was fairly small. About 10 million. We used to have over 100, 000 mechs in the Autobot army. And the femme numbers are far more worrying. There used to be 500 femmes in Elita's army. Now there are these few that are coming to Earth. There are around 20 Neutral femmes. We are not sure about the Decepticon femmes. We think there are still a few remaining, but not more than 6."

Epps whistled in amazement, muttering, "What a way to get rid of a race." Optimus turned back to the horizon. He felt Elita in his spark, but not as much. It felt weak.

"There!" Jolts shout caused all of them to look to the north-east. Two dark blots were getting closer and closer by the second.

"Yo, Lennox, just a thought, but did we get clearance for more aliens?" Epps said turning his head towards his buddy.

"I'm not stupid Epps, of course!"

"Just checkin', cos we don't need another asshole like Galloway," snorted the black soldier.

There was the whine of thrusters as the ships came into full view. The larger ship was four times the size of the smaller. On the sides was the Autobot emblem, proudly displayed on the silver hull. 'The Ark' was inscribed on the left side. The smaller ship was a light red and it too had the Autobot emblem.

"Whenever I see stuff like this, I feel like I'm in a movie," said Sam, staring in awe. Epps chuckled, "Me too kid."

The Cybertronians said nothing. The ships lowered, finally coming to rest 200 meters away, casting shadows on them. The Ark doors opened first. A black and white mech with a startling red chevron stepped out, striding down the passage that extended to the ground. He said nothing as he approached, and no – one came out behind him.

The mech stopped in front of Optimus, impassive. Waiting for Optimus to speak.

"Good to see you Prowl."

"And you, sir. You've been well?"

"Much better now. Sam, Epps, Lennox," Optimus gestured to Prowl, "This is my lead tactician and second in command, Prowl. Prowl, these are our human allies."

Nodding to each human, Prowl went on to business, "Sir, Elita has requested that her femmes scan alt modes via Teletraan before they disembark. I would also like to make that request. That way we can make it inside much easier."

"Granted. Mechs first to disembark, just in case the Decepticons decide to have a little welcoming party for you," deadpanned Optimus.

A hint of a smirk played around Prowl's mouth. "You read my processor sir."

Optimus sent Prowl the code, and Prowl then turned to return to the ship and disappeared inside.

"It's good to have Prowl back Optimus...I don't have to do those slagging datapads anymore," smirked Jazz.

"Pfft...is that all you have Prowl around for as a bond brother? My, my, Jazz, you are cold sparked!" teased Sideswipe.

Lennox looked confused, "What's a bond brother? I thought you guys said only mechs and femmes could bond."

"Well Lennox, think of it as me having, "A brotha from anotha motha!"" laughed Jazz. Ratchet sighed in exasperation.

"What he means is that, because they were so close as friends, he and Prowl decided to bond together to become brothers," he grumbled. Jazz just shrugged, "Yeah, what I said."

"Oh," said Lennox.

"Hey Bee, why so quiet, I've barely heard a peep out of you," asked Sam, putting his comic in his backpack.

Bee's faceplates became a little heated. "Well, I'm actually hoping my girlfriend is still alive actually."

If Sam had been having a drink, he would have spat it out. He gasped and choked on the air as he tried to speak. "Dude, since when? You never even told me!"

"Heh, not even we knew until we left for the AllSpark mission. Like you humans say, 'It's always the quiet ones'," rumbled Ironhide.

"Kissed her yet?" Sam asked. Bee's faceplates heat up a little more as he mumbled something.

"Sorry Bee, didn't catch that?" Sam said, a cheeky glint in his eyes.

"He said only once before he left Cybertron," said Jolt, getting in on the fun.

"Let it drop guys! Esparanza and I had only been dating for eight solar cycles before we left. It's nothing much," Bee sighed.

"Yet," said Ironhide. He thought for a moment. "Hang on 'ere. Isn't Esperanza that little femme that became equal second sharpshooter after Moonracer? If that's the one Bee, you got yourself a tough little sweetheart."

Bee blushed again, making everyone laugh. A loud rev pierced the air and the bot's turned to see a black and white Dodge Viper police car roll down the passage. Slowing to a smooth stop before his leader, Prowl transformed.

"Sir, roll call of all mechs of the Ark."

"Proceed."

Then it was truly a sight to behold as exotic supercars and gleaming metal proceeded out the ramp and into the Autobots new world. A few planes also soared out of the massive ship. One by one, mechs lined up behind their second in command.

"Skyfire, Air commander!" Prowl called. At the end of the line, a white Concord transformed and stood at attention.

"Ultra Magnus." A blue flamed white Peterbilt like Optimus.

"Wheeljack." A white Delorean DMC 12 with green and red stripes. He waved happily at the group once he transformed.

"Perceptor." A Toyota Tundra 2010 in dull red and black with splashes of blue.

"Mirage, Blurr and Drift," Prowl continued. A blue F-1 race car, a sky blue Bugatti Veyron and a white with red striped SSC Ultimate Aero all transformed.

"Sunstreaker, Bluestreak." Sunstreaker's golden Corvette Stingray paintjob shone brightly as he transformed next to a modded 2006 blue and gray Toyota Celica.

"Tracks, Hot Rod and Inferno." A blue and silver Ferrari California was followed by a 1969 Dodge Charger in red with yellow flames. A firetruck transformed after them.

"Maelstrom." An unknown ivory Pagani Zonda transformed and stood, proudly displaying burnt orange Cybertronian tattoos.

"First Aid, Air Raid and Cliffjumper." An ambulance, a white and red F-15 Eagle and a crimson Porshe 924 all transformed and saluted.

"Hound, Blaster and Smokescreen." The three mechs transformed. Hound was a moss green Jeep Wrangler Rubicon, Blaster a large tape deck and Smokescreen also a modded 2006 model Toyota Celica, but in blue and yellow.

The roll call continued until all mechs were present and accounted for.

"Thank you for making the trip to Earth, my Autobots, and Neutrals. Hopefully here is where we stand to build a new future," said Optimus, raising his voice.

A smooth honey voice interrupted. "Hopefully with the femmes, commander. We don't like to be forgotten."

All the mechs turned. There, in front of the _Furtive Star,_ was a rose and chrome Mercedes ML450. Slowly, gracefully, the sleek Mercedes transformed into an undoubtable feminine figure.

"Elita -1," Optimus said quietly. Only Elita could pick up the gentle love in his tone. Their bond re-opened anew; they could feel each other again.

"Optimus Prime," she purred. Earth armour suited her mate. "I would like you to meet what is left of the Autobot femmes."

.

_**A/n: Yes, I know the alt modes are different in this for the Autobots, but I liked these cos I think they are sexier. Anyway, if you want some clarification on what they look like, just PM me, I'll show you my page of characters, alt modes and colours. Yes, the next chapter is going to be as dry as this! Bear with me, chapter 3 and 4 is when all the plot actually starts and you get to learn about all the characters.**_


	2. Meet the Autobot femmes

A/N: Ok, here are the femmes! Disclaimer: I WISH I owned Tranformers. OCs ahoy!

**Femmes **

Elita smirked as she heard the smooth purring of engines as her army and Neutrals exited the battleship. The graceful, sleek forms all lined up, waiting for the femme commanders order. The femme commander paused to take a mental picture at some of the mechs faceplates. Expressions ranging from joy, lust and shock as all 50 femmes lined up beside her.

"Femmes, please transform and introduce yourselves!" Elita's firm voice rang out over the hidden valley in the Rockies.

Sam turned to whisper in Epp's ear, "Whoa...female robots _can_ be hot!" Bumblebee snickered as quietly as he could at Sam's remark.

"Chromia, second in command of the femme forces!" a light blue H3 Hummer called out as she transformed.

"Moonracer, third in command and sharpshooter," said a mint green Jaguar XJ220 as she transformed. She sent a quick wink to Ratchet before standing at attention.

"Esperanza, sharpshooter." Bee gasped as he saw his girlfriend transform from her Holden Astra convertible alt mode. Her champagne armour glimmered in the afternoon sun. Their optics locked.

Three motorbikes all transformed. A pink one said, "Arcee." The red and pink one called, "Firestar!" And an orange and red one smiled, "Flare-up."

Two near identical chrome silver Corvette Z06's transformed. They were twins in every way except one femme had purple swirls on her paintjob, while the other had red. "Lyrica," gestured the purple swirled silver femme to herself, while the other smirked, "I am her twin, Muse. Together, we are the femme Autobot band T-Trouble."

Ratchet made an audible groan while Sides and Sunny's faceplates split into mischievous grins.

"Delira," said a petite, model like purple, pink and gold Mini. She turned her noseplates up as she gazed around.

"Beta, archer," waved a white and green Volkswagon Eos convertible.

"Quicksilver, fastest femme on legs" a silver with black waves on the silver Hyundai Tiburon said softly.

"Override! Fastest femme on wheels!" a red Bugatti Veyron boasted as she transformed.

"Roulette, hacker" smirked a gray and purple Porshe 911.

"Wildside," a black, green and gold femme grinned, transforming from her Ford Gt-40 alt mode.

Five small Smith Miniplanes all transformed. A glossy black one stepped forward, unconcerned of her diminutive size and spoke, "I am Onyx, and I am the leader of the Jewel combiner. My sisters will introduce themselves to you."

"Ruby," a ruby coloured one said.

"Emerald."

"Sapphire."

"Topaz," finished an honey-coloured femme.

Now there were 12 Autobot femmes left and the 20 Neutrals. The Neutrals quickly transformed and quickly introduced themselves, not wanting to waste time.

A white Mazda Furai concept with lavender streaks transformed. "I am Sagittari. I am the leader of the Zodiac sisters. We all have different femme carriers, but the same parental mech, a Decepticon named Enigmus. We are oddities; for our sparks from Enigmus were synthesised to display traits based off the Zodiac, the same which is on Earth. We are sisters in bond, not in CNA." Here the femme paused, lavender optics surveying her audience for their reactions.

"We are our own mini army. We all have a function. I am also the oldest. Just so you mechs don't get confused," she smirked, "We will introduce ourselves in chronological order. As mentioned, I am Sagittari, born under the Zodiac sign of Sagittarius." There was the symbol for the Zodiac sign under her left optic in blue.

Transformation cogs sounded as a glossy royal purple Lamborghini Murcielago LP640 roadster transformed into a curvaceous femme. "I am Capricornia, the Weapons specialist for the Autobot femmes. What I don't know about any Autobot or Decepticon weapon is little." Her curvy frame didn't seem to hold any weapons, and the mechs looked at her sceptically. Then, without batting an optic cover, Capricornia unsubspaced her arm cannons, shoulder missiles and her double-handed sword. Her azure optics betrayed no sign of arrogance or threat.

Elita chuckled, "Capricornia may not look like much, but her subspace pocket holds anything a Weapons Specialist could even dream about." Ironhide's gaze was now impressed.

An aqua Ford Territory FPV F6X 2008 model stood next to Capricornia, her amber-opticed expression as impassive as her sisters. "I am Aquaris, the femme medic. As you can all see, we have our Zodiac symbols below our left optic. This is because our personalities are almost exact to the symbol."

"Hi! I'm Picyries, an inventor and scientist," greeted a cheery dark blue BMW Z4 E89 with green optics.

"Oh hell, I'm going to have both of them in my Medbay! Her and Wheeljack together will be a sure disaster," whispered Ratchet harshly. Ironhide sniggered next to him, and consequently got smacked in the back of the head.

"Behave you two," chuckled Optimus, returning his attention back to the introductions.

"Ariea, warrior," a confident cherry Maserati GranCabrio asserted as she stood. Her green optics surveyed the mechs as if choosing a fine high-grade.

"Tauri, equal second sharpshooter," said a melodic voiced moon silver 2000 model Pontiac Firebird Trans Am. Her blue optics glowed gently as she gazed around her.

"I'm scout Gemini," introduced a amber visored dark emerald Aston Martin Rapide. The visor flashed as she looked at her new terrain.

A small grass green 2009 Mazda MX-5 Miata hardtop shuffled her feet a little uncertainly before saying, "Cancera, saboteur." The blue optics did not look at anyone.

A bright yellow with brown steaks Lotus Exige sashayed forward as she transformed. "I'm Leo-Rah, the all-rounder. You might know me better as my stage name, Starblaze." Blue optics surveyed the mechs nods as they recognised her from her various acting performances. She basked in the attention.

A hot pink Ferrari California transformed and said, "I'm Virgo. I triple change into a blinding mirror. I am also a technician and hacker."

"Libra, tactician," said a light indigo, purple opticed Honda Accord Euro 2008 model calmly.

The last femme transformed, a black and orange 1970 Ford Torino Cobra with sportsroof. Her intense sapphire optics betrayed no emotion as she stood proud, save for a silent passionate fire for the Autobot cause. "And I am the youngest, Scorpia. I, too, am an all-rounder, but I specialise as an assassin. It was a combination of Libra's tactics, Picyries inventions and Capricornia's weapons that I was able to dispose of Shockwave."

"Well met femmes," said Optimus. Beside him on the ground, Epps, Lennox and Sam were in awe at the Cybertronian lifeforms before them.

"This...is...awesome. I am so glad I had those glasses," said a dazed Sam, not knowing he spoke. Elita, who knew the story behind the boy, laughed.

"Us femmes are an impressive sight, aren't we, young human?" she laughed. Sam could only nod his head dumbly. Optimus allowed a smile to creep across his faceplates at the youthful being.

"Now that we are all introduced...Ratchet, Ironhide and Prowl, could you please help to organise everyone comfortably in the base. Elita, please come with me," ordered Optimus. All Cybertronians folded down into their alt modes, the humans in the army jeep, and headed the short distance into the base built into the Rocky mountains.

.

**Optimus's office.**

Optimus led the way into his large office, his mate trailing behind him. She closed the door softly behind her. They stood, ignoring the chairs, staring into each other's optics. Optimus's optics warmed at the sight of his slender, strong femme. She smiled, a knowing smile, a promise of things to come.

"I missed you," the leader whispered.

"I missed you too...you lugnut," Elita said, wrapping her arms around his neck and resting her helm on his massive chest. A flamed arm embraced her waist while the other lightly stroked her antennae. Leaning down slightly, Optimus captured her lips in a soft kiss. She responded in fervour. She had been deprived of her mate too long, like a cyber-fish on the land starves for the rust sea.

Elita moaned into the kiss, discovering his taste, his love, all over again, like when they first kissed. Breaking off their kiss, Elita realised her vents were cycling heavily and large hands had crept down to her hips.

Looking up at her love, Elita breathed, "Lock the door?"

"Yes. And don't rush, we've got the rest of the day and all night if you so wish," the flamed mech assured.

"Hopeless romantic," she teased, pushing Optimus into a chair and straddling him.

"Only for you," the leader whispered into his love's audio. Inwardedly, he thanked Primus that he had the foresight to build his new office with soundproof walls.

.

**A/N: Yes, I tried to make it a little less dry at the end. Next chap is a bit more background information on the Zodiac sisters. Also, I know that being Cybertronians, they wouldn't really have the ideal of the whole Zodiac thing. But I loved their names so much I couldn't resist. **


	3. Zodiac femmes

A/N: Ok, just a clarification, the Zodiac sisters are not _genetically related_. They were made as sisters so they could feel each other. So I will continue to refer to each other as sisters. Also, when I mention Blurr, I'm using his appearance from the 'All Hail Megatron' series, it's way cooler than his original. You know my disclaimers.

.

**Femmes of the Zodiac **

**Capricornia**

The curvy, tall violet femme quietly strode down to her sisters quarters. They were all allocated one hallway with six doors on one side and six on the other. She was the last to discover her rooms, having checked in with Chromia and Moonracer, sorting through information on the base from Ironhide and giving datapads on her sisters attributes to Prowl. She had then made her way to the femme quadrant.

As Capricornia walked down the hallway, she noticed her sisters had already inscribed their names on their doors. First two, Sagittari and Ariea. Next two, Gemini and Virgo. Third row, Cancera and Tauri. Fourth row down the corridor was Libra and Leo-Rah. Fifth row was Pyciries and Aquaris's quarters. The last door on the left sixth row was unmarked. Opposite was a door with black script spelling in Cybertronian and English, "Scorpia."

Capricornia resisted the urge to see her youngest sister. That would have to wait until she was set up and got some recharge. Pushing open the door, Capricornia could only stare at the rooms assigned to her. No, not a mere room, a suite!

Capricornia looked at the comfy couches, benchtop with energon heater and mini-dispenser and racks on the walls for possessions and couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. She had never lived in such a place before. Capricornia was used to living in cramped and dirty conditions while a younger femme on Cybertron – before Sagittari had found her with Aquaris. And even then, when she had joined the Autobots, the only room they had left was a small storeroom.

Capricornia pulled a large carry case out of her subspace and locked the door behind her. Out of the case she took some of her most prized possessions. She set a crystal ball etched with the likeness of Airol, the femme city, on one of the shelves. Next to that she placed a piece of twisted dull metal. The remains of her mother. There was a flicker of purple on an edge.

She left the main room and entered what she hoped what was a berthroom. She was correct. Another door off the side entered into a small washrack.

'_Who do they think I am? Andromeda Prime?'_ she thought, silently tracing the reflection of her optics in the washrack mirror. She returned to her room, and retrieved a large picture of the Polyhex gardens to place opposite her berth. The one time she had ever been on holiday, her mother had taken her to Polyhex. Only for one night, it was all they could afford.

And there, still in the bag, was her most prized possession. A slim sword, long enough so that she held it point down, the pommel reached to the bottom edge of her chestplates. An unknown piece of Cybertronian weaponry, it was a legendary "Spark blade." An iridescent gold light shimmered around the sword.

The femme slipped it below the berth, within arm's reach, should she ever need it.

The quiet peal of a door chime had her quickly stand and head for the door, hoping to see Scorpia. The purple femme was slightly disappointed to see Prowl, standing there with a datapad in his hand. Her datapad on herself.

"Something wrong sir?" Capricornia enquired. She had a fairly good idea of what this was about.

"Not exactly. May I come in please?"

"Yes, sir," the weapons specialist said gracefully, gesturing to one of her new blue upholstered couches.

"It's Prowl, Capricornia, no need for formality when we are discussing matters in private quarters," the stoic mech smiled slightly in assurance. As he sat, he noticed the femmes acute attention on him as she, too, sat opposite him.

Holding up the datapad Prowl asked, "Would you care to explain what you meant by 'Weapon: Only revealed on request' and 'Parentage: revealed on request.' Every other Zodiac femme had their parental carrier, why not yours? You must understand my request, I have to trust you to an extent to work with you."

Both unemotional bots looked at each other, sizing each other up. Prowls doorwings tested the air around him as he waited.

Finally she spoke, "Prowl, I'd prefer you not tell anyone this. Please." At the tacticians nod, Capricornia began her story.

"First off, I am the only all Decepticon sparked Zodiac sister. While never being one myself, my mother was the only Decepticon femme Enigmus ever sparked up." Prowls optics narrowed slightly. "My mother...she is...was...spark sister to Thunderblast. My mother was Acid Blast."

"Hence, your knowledge of Decepticon weapons," Prowl broke in, in realisation. Before Acid Blast disappeared, she had been the Decepticon femme weapons specialist.

"Yes. But unlike my mother, I despise the Decepticons and all they stand for...with a _passion_," Capricornia said stiffly. Prowl nodded at her to continue, no judgement on his faceplates.

"My mother had me, Enigmus told her what to call me, and left. I never saw him again. And he took most of my mother's credits with him. Acid Blast found a little alley apartment for the cheapest rent while she left the army to raise me. She tried to bring me up as a Decepticon, teaching me all about weapons. The types of guns, swords, and such; how to use them in battle; future models. I wasn't stupid, I knew that the Decepticon idea was fatally flawed." Blue optics dimmed a little in memory.

"And to make credits for us to survive, she would sell her body as well as work as a 'Con informant. In one aspect, I knew she loved me. If I had grown up from a youngling in the Decepticon base, I would have been one for sure, I have no doubt. Most likely forced into it. She made enough money to send me to the Academy branch in Iacon. Not the main one, they'd know I was the daughter of a 'Con. One solar-cycle I came home, and she was gone. I was almost a mature femme. There was nothing but a lump of twisted acid metal and a bag full of credits."

"Do you know why?" the 2IC questioned softly. Capricornia nodded her head, "I later found out off the street she had been killed by Thunderblast for leaving and having a sparkling." Her voice started to crackle and she forced herself to stop speaking. She would not let this unknown, yet unjudging mech see how affected she was.

Prowl shook his head. "It will never cease to amaze me how cruel some 'Con's are," he scowled.

"Me either."

"So you lived off the street?"

"Yes. I made a living by servicing weapons in a gunnery not too far from my Academy. I learnt more. As a reward in addition to the credits I was paid, Gunnar, the mech who owned the shop, would let me craft my own weapons as payment for all the work I did," said Capricornia. "He also set me up with a tiny apartment near his if I ever needed help."

"And Sagittari found you," he asked, observing Capricornia's staid mannerisms.

"With Aquaris. She was the first sister Sagittari tracked down," she recalled. Prowl nodded and added a note on the datapad. His optics flicked to the 'Weapon: revealed on request' note. When he looked up to enquire, Capricornia was striding out of her berthroom with a large gold sword. Prowl knew the legend and his optics widened imperceptibly.

"Is that what I think it is, Capricornia?" Prowl asked, in a small state of awe.

A smirk. "This is the illustrious 'Spark Blade' of the Wenyl mine legend. It's true. The legend. The Neutral party that bestowed it on me did so after they ran me through with it. Their last opportunity, Megatron wiped out their settlement not long after I left."

"Primus."

"You are destroying your completely stoic image I've heard about on the _Furtive star _you know," the femme smiled. Prowl came back to himself, staring at the glorious sword.

"The image can go rot in pit. Does it really...?"

"Yes. If ran though your spark and doesn't kill you, you are truly a good spark. If, just on touching the casing, the spark extinguishes, then that spark is sent to the depths of the Pit for all eternity. However, if in the middle of the two, then your spark is simply sent to the Well of Sparks. Useful. And brutal. It is mine," she said proudly, flashing the blade in the light, making it seem like molten fire.

Capricornia was startled at the smile on the 2IC's face. '_He does have a spark, like any of us,'_ she thought.

"Thank you for your time. Rest assured, only Optimus will know of this. Just don't be tempted to test that blade on the Twins if they annoy you," the black and white mech chuckled drily. He stood, gave a little bow and said, "Well, I'd better leave you to your unpacking."

"Oh...this is all I have sir," Capricornia said. That stopped Prowl short.

"We do have spare objects and extra credits if you wish to purchase something other to change your rooms if you wish."

"I don't take charity, Prowl," she murmured. She crossed her arms over her ample purple armoured chestplates, defensive.

"It's not charity here at the Autobots. It's making each other feel like we belong and are cared for. It's something that distinguishes us from the Decepticons. Enjoy your evening," Prowl said, and left, clicking the door behind him.

Capricornia didn't move for a while, thinking over the meeting. While she believed she could trust the mech, and liked aspects of his personality, she knew it would take more than that to call the 2IC a friend. Hiding her sword under her berth again, she laid on the berth, thinking over her new life. Her last thought as she slipped into re-charge was to double check that Sagittari would read the reports on command protocols.

**Ariea and Sagittari**

The loud thump of a speaker system filled the room, walls vibrating minutely as P!nk's "Trouble" blasted through the speakers. Two femmes were jumping up and down on the berth, singing along with the lyrics. The red femmes eyes shone with mirth as she danced with her white and lavender sister.

"Earth. Music. Is. Awesome!" yelled Sagittari over the music, feeling like Primus himself. Clean, spacious quarters. A new planet. A _yummy_ selection of mechs to choose from. What more could a femme want?

"Pit yeah! Oh, did you get that datapad from Capricornia?" asked Ariea, switching the track to "Bad Reputation" by Joan Jett. She'd have to thank that visored mech Jazz for giving them this music mix before they slipped into their quarters.

"Yeah, just some boring stuff on the chain of command. She'll probably just tell me about it."

Ariea frowned slightly, halting her jumping. "Tari, stop for a second."

"Don't let anyone else hear that nick-name Ariea. It's too preppy. _Sagit_tari is more...wild and free," Sagittari said airily.

"Whatever. Anyway, my esteemed leader, I've noticed that you're piling a lot of your work on Capricornia," Ariea pointed out, turning down the music.

"Wouldn't she complain if she's getting overworked? I'm sure Capricornia's fine with it. She knows she can come to me if she needs to. Besides, I need to cut loose every now and then," Sagittari shrugged.

Re-assured, Ariea turned the music back up calling out, "Then let's par-tay!" The femmes shrieked with laughter as they continued to jump on the berth. Bouncing up and down they shed their responsibilities...if only for now.

**Picyries**

'_Ooooh! I can't believe it, they gave me my own lab!' _the dark blue BMW thought excitedly. She had received a slip of paper from Capricornia and told to 'have fun.' She clapped her hands together, reaching the corridor where the labs were.

She had seen a few mechs on her way here, and she thought they looked nothing like the scientists she had known on Cybertron. Most of the mechs here had large, thick armour and heavy weapons adorning their frames. It was intimidating to a femme scientist and inventor to say the least.

At last the petite femme found an unmarked door and pushed in. Small in comparison to the labs back in Cybertron, nevertheless, it was all _hers._

"Oh, hello there! You must be Picyries," came a voice from behind her. The BMW whirled around to see a cheerful looking white mech with green and red stripes on his chassis. He was standing in front of a door with the sign "Mad inventor inside – do not enter ;)" He must have already made himself at home. He held his hand out for her to shake.

Accepting his handshake, she grinned, "Yes I am. And you must be Wheeljack."

"The one and only," he grinned back. Picyries couldn't stop her grin as much as she couldn't stop how much she was beginning to like the inventor (and at less than 4 sentences too!). Here was a mech who shared her interests most likely, who had a sense of humour, was cheery, and was not bulked up with armour.

"I heard about your experiments and testing on Psorogranite. How did you figure out that it could be used as a containment to a blast? Nothing like that had been in the history of the metal, it was thought only to be precious metal," the blue femme asked, leaning forward in anticipation of more discovery.

"I accidentally pulled the wrong container over. The container made of Psorogranite was going to a friend of mine, and was next to a steel one. They are the same colour, so I grabbed the Psorogranite container and poured the acid into it. However, it was starting to spark and explode, so I locked the cover and ran, expecting it blow up," chuckled Wheeljack. "It was probably the only time something didn't explode when it was supposed to."

Picyries' optics widened in surprise, saying "How many times had you made things explode with enough force to land you in the medbay?"

The mech rubbed the back of his helm in an embarrassed manner before murmuring, "Ah...I think Ratchet, our CMO, has logged it at 1, 276, 179 times, but I'm sure it's more. He's actually got my name etched into one of the berths."

Picyries laughed, a high, sweet sound. Wheeljack laughed with her. In the middle of a war, mirth needed to be passed around freely. Especially when a new friendship was in bloom.

Waving goodbye to Wheeljack, Picyries entered the sanctity of her lab. Polished metal and glassware where everywhere. A desk was off to the side with a filing cabinet. And upon the walls were multitudes of cabinets with various science ware.

Feeling like a youngling again, Picyries let out a loud whoop of laughter. All hers...the lab was now home.

**Tauri and Cancera**

"Ok, who's going to be your pet project _this_ time Tauri?"

"Cancera, I've only been on this planet for less than an Earth solar cycle, do you honestly think I've got someone picked out already?"

"Yes," snorted the saboteur. She knew Tauri's caring nature was second only to her own. She was a saboteur, but an overly compassionate one, and she knew it...and even worse...loved it.

The silver Trans Am lowered her helm a little in dejection. "Fine...you're right, happy?"

"Of course, silly, you can't keep it all to yourself. So spill it, who?" asked the grass coloured femme.

"Um...the ah...second in command. Prowl," came the quiet voice.

"Aw, honey," sighed Cancera, reaching over the berth to hug her sister. "You couldn't have picked out a harder cube to crack."

"I know, but I see the way he stands alone, and all the things that the other femmes said about him on _Furtive Star. _Oh, I wish people wouldn't judge him so harshly, no mech deserves that," Tauri lamented. The minute she had seen the 2IC after she had transformed and introduced herself, Tauri knew she wanted to know the mechs processor.

"But what if it's true? The stuff that Beta and Chromia were talking about: how he rarely makes friends, a stickler for rules, cold sparked and boring to boot. Tauri, you might be on a lost cause," Cancera pointed out.

"No. I'm sure I'm not. Cancera, even you could feel the isolation rolling off his spark, you are much more emotionally perceptive than I am," Tauri said, stretching out across Cancera's berth, green sheets rustling underneath her.

The Mazda MX-5 was quiet, thinking. A slow nod was Tauri's only answer.

The silver femme offlined her optics, thinking about the mech who had captured her attention so sharp and suddenly. The graceful Dodge Viper alt mode, sleek, smooth, and utterly dangerous. The black and white paint, deflecting and absorbing the sun's rays. His ice-like optics as he looked her over at the introduction. The twitching and swaying of those regal, high-held door wings.

Had she have been a lusty femme, she was sure to be a puddle of coolant at the thought. But no, Prowl had a more interesting facade. One that Tauri wanted to peek through the cracks and to the spark.

Cancera could only roll her blue optics at her older sister and smirk. This was going to be Tauri's biggest challenge yet.

**Gemini, Virgo, Leo-Rah and Libra**

The dark green Aston Rapide, hot pink Ferrari California, yellow, brown streaked Lotus Exige and light indigo Honda Accord Euro were all resting on Virgo's berth. Virgo had worked with efficiency to deck her rooms out in every shade of pink and purple she had brought from Cybertron, and now the femmes were relaxing on the hot pink sheeted berth, surrounded by packs of energon goodies.

Gemini was chattering away about the random gossip she had heard on the way in, "Apparently they destroyed Megatron, and then he was brought back to life by this original Decepticon called the "Fallen," and now apparently he destroyed our original base in the Indian Ocean somewhere. So glad we didn't arrive then."

"Me too. But the future battles may be more worrying. Lots of 'Con's escaped off Cybertron before we did," said Libra cleaning her rifle. They had run out on weapons solvent on the _Star_ and she was now taking the opportunity to relax and catch up.

"Don't worry girls. We're Autobots, we kick aft and that's the end of the story. After all, the 'Cons ain't got nothin' like me!" Leo-Rah winked at her sisters cheekily, popping a goodie in her mouth. Virgo completely ignored her sisters and said nothing, typing up a to-do list on a datapad. The hot pink Ferrari frowned: she would have to talk to _someone_ to get the more cleaning solution for her room. No way was it enough as it was.

Seeing the datapad, Gemini sighed, "Virgo, stop trying to micro-manage everything. We just got here! There's plenty of time for that later."

"Oh, so when would you like me to finish it? Halfway in battle?" she snorted derisively. "Sure, Elita would be _really_ pleased about that."

"Virgo, chill. Give yourself a teensy break," suggested Leo-Rah, getting up.

Virgo's emerald optics narrowed. "Where are you going? I thought we came here to be together as sisters."

"Yeah...but you are doing your list, Gem's gossiping and Libra just wants to chill. I might as well explore the rec-room. I wanna meet our comrades," said Leo-Rah, sauntering towards the door. The brown mane-like panels on the sides of her helm flared out a little in excitement.

Gemini giggled, "It's only cos you wanna check out any hot mechs."

"You betcha!" winked the Exige, and sauntered out of sight.

Virgo grumbled, "She's incorrigible."

Libra laughed, putting away her now-clean rifle. "Ah, but we wouldn't have her another way. Our little entertainer."

.

**Aquaris**

"How many medics do we have at the present time?" asked the aqua femme, neatly laying out a set of scalpels in the drawer. She was in the medbay with her new boss and CMO, Ratchet, wanting to get affiliated with her new workstation as soon as possible.

"Seven. Myself, First Aid, Jolt and you are the primary medics. Wheeljack, Perceptor and Swoop are secondary. I must say, it's good to get some fresh blood in," commented Ratchet, taking inventory of all the medical equipment brought in off the _Ark_. The new technology was every medics dream.

"It's good working in a proper medbay again. The _Star's _was just...not enough, you know?" said Aqauris. Striding over to Ratchet to take one of the datapads in his hand, she accepted his thanks as he replied, "I know. It's the feeling of inadequacy as a medic not to have the means to help all patients."

Aquaris nodded. "You know Ratchet, I can do all this...if you want, you can go re-unite with Moonracer. Primus knows you two haven't seen each other in vorns."

Ratchet narrowed his eyes at his new protégée, saying, "Oh? And what makes you think I need to see Moonracer?"

The Ford FPV F6X let a smirk tilt the corners of her mouth. "Maybe Moonracer blurting out her dating experiences with you before your search for the All spark during a party on the _Star_."

Ratchet scowled, faceplates tinting red. Aquaris quickly assured, "Don't be too upset. She had found some high-grade and was passing it around, having fun. She was pretty overcharged by the time she told us of your escapade when you two got caught under the trellis of the Iacon gardens."

The femme giggled as Ratchet grumbled something about 'naive little easily over-charged femme.' Her giggles came to an end when the medbay doors whooshed open and a blue and grey modded Celica walked in.

A smile was on Bluestreaks face as he greeted the CMO. "Hey Ratchet, how are you, cos I heard about all the stuff that happened on Earth, did you really put Jazz back together, cos I'm so happy you did cos he's one of the best mechs this army has seen and..." Aquaris was staring at the mech as he talked...she had only heard one mech ever do that...

Ratchet held up his hand, halting Bluestreaks babble. "Yes, I'm good, yes, I put Jazz back together. Would you like to re-introduce yourself to the femme medic?"

Still grinning, Blue stepped forward toward the slightly taller aqua femme, holding his hand out to shake. But as Bluestreak got a better look at the femme, he found he recognised her. Shaking her hand, he gasped as he remembered her face...her amber optics.

"Primus, I know you!" he yelled. Ratchet looked confused, but a look of horror was starting to dawn on the femme medics faceplates as she shook her helm.

"I do! Were you a dancer at the Pretty FEM club? A dancer by the name of Miz Sparkle?" Blue asked excitedly. Aquaris's white faceplates quickly changed to the pink a shade of Virgo's armour in answer.

Ratchet looked at the femme, chuckling amusedly. "A dancer, Aquaris? Truly?"

The femme sighed in embarrassment, "Well, my carrier didn't want to pay for me to be a medic. She wanted me to be a home-femme. I had to do _something_, and no one would hire me but dancing clubs." She shuffled her pedes, wanting nothing more than to disappear.

Ratchet turned bemusedly to Bluestreak, "And how do you remember Aquaris of all femmes at that club I'd like to know." Aquaris shook her head again in a desperate gesture, but Bluestreak didn't notice.

"Oh, she gave me my first interface," he grinned. Aquaris slapped her hand to her forehead. First day with her new boss and she was looking like and idiot _and_ a wanton pleasure bot!

"The ONLY time I ever did it. I only ever danced. Never revealed my whole protoform or 'faced mechs or femme for credits. His friend," she said, keeping her tone even, yet firm, as to not reveal her true emotions, pointing to Blue, "This red bot, I think one of those twins I saw, pleaded with me and paid me **much **more than what was the normal going rate. That payment was the last of the funds needed." Her cheek ridged were still flushed pink, but she held her helm high.

Ratchet chuckled again. '_This is perfect revenge for the Moonracer thing. Must remember to give Blue a nice easy check-up next time he comes in.'_

Bluestreak, way too late, recognised his faux pax and blushed a little and whispered to her, "Sorry, my mouth runs off before I think. But...you were the first and best I've ever had."

Aquaris blushed even harder and turned her helm away, admonishing herself and cursing Primus for making her bump into the one mech she had ever interfaced during her job. She walked into one of the private room to get away from Ratchet's chuckles and Bluestreak's mouth, content to do a job...any job...as long as she had her dignity still intact at the end.

**.**

**Scorpia**

'_I've always been underestimated. By my carrier. By my slagging creator (Decepticon Creep!). Even by some of my sisters. And definitely by my enemies. I may be a femme, but I'm strong. I'm passionate about the Autobot cause. And I don't like everyone seeing how raw I can be.'_

"_I'm an assassin of the finest class. I don't like what I do, but I'm good at it, so there is no grey area for me...just black and white. But now...now I need to relax. Capricornia understands. Aquaris, Cancera and Tauri do too. I need speed. Now...now...NOW!"_

The black and orange femme transformed on where she was on the outskirts of the base overlooking the plain of the base into her 1970 Ford Torino Cobra alt mode. She revved heavily, gunning her engine before shooting off across the plain, aiming for the other side of the base.

Dirt kicked up under her flying tires as she pushed her engine, gradually reaching her maximum speed. The performance engine purred as she raced along. The air whipped against her hood, against her sides, spurring her on even faster. The landscape scenes were melding into each other.

"YES!" she breathed in elation. Scorpia couldn't get enough of the sensation.

A sudden blip came on her radar. It was...even faster than she was and approaching. Not a 'Con, though...

And before Scorpia could comm. the bot, the blurred shape of a blue and silver Bugatti Veyron sped past her. In astonishment, the youngest Zodiac sister slid to a graceful stop and transformed in her bipedal mode. The mech did too.

The tall mech looked at her with a wide smile. "You were fantastic! For a femme, I reckon you could give Override and Moonracer a run for their credits!"

Scorpia said nothing, just looking at the mech. He had the build of a racer...one of the ones that went to 'The Circle.' He had winged helm pieces on his head, a lean, handsome face and speed booters mounted on his back, behind his shoulders. Smooth, blue, contoured panels covering his body, each aerodynamically designed to decrease air resistance.

'_Fine-looking racer,'_ Scorpia thought absently to herself. She still said nothing, so the mech held out a hand to her.

"I'm Blurr," he introduced, posture having a slightly cocky air. Scorpia took his hand and shook it quickly before releasing it. Her cerulean optics widened minutely as she recognised the name.

"Scorpia. Do you happen to be _the _Blurr? Fastest racer on all Cybertron?" she asked.

"Yep. Saw you racing and couldn't help but join in. How are you fitting in?"

Scorpia snorted, "As well as I can be within a joor of arriving on a foreign planet."

Blurr looked confusedly down at the femme and her tense frame. Maybe he had intruded on her private time and was now being very defensive towards him for that very reason. His admiration for the femme was real, but maybe he shouldn't have been so abrupt.

"Oh...I'll, ah...go then. Hope you settle in," he said with a cheery wave. Scorpia, realising her social blunder, reached out a hand to stop the blue racer, but he had already transformed and sped off back toward the base under the Rockies.

The black and orange femme sighed to herself. '_I never learn do I?'_ she thought irritated. Her social habits were part of the reason why she became an assassin; you never needed them...much. She felt a little saddened by the abruptness of the mech departing. Was she really that stand-offish?

'_I need speed more now. I need to calm...focus...to be strong when the 'Cons attack, when they do, and it's for sure they will. I have the age of the youngest, but the processor of the oldest. I can't let go of my passion,' _ she thought, and transformed to race off again, letting her processor clear.


	4. Relations

A/N: Just a few more introductions of characters before the action begins. BTW, implications of rape and torture, but nothing graphic. Also Lancer and Glyph are actual Autobot femmes I found on tfwiki, look em up! Reviews are requested and appreciated. I won't post the next chapter until I get at least three reviews.

**Femmes and Sparklings Chap 4 – Uncle Optimus?**

**Leo – Rah**

The small yellow and brown Exige made her way to the rec-room of the base, pausing every now and then to look out the windows of the base, observing the terrain of the hidden mountain valley.

'_Earth is so different. Can't wait till I get to explore!' _she thought, walking down a large hallway, fairly certain she had gone the right way. Leo-Rah pushed through a set of double doors on the left, finding herself in a huge room. Inside there were tables scattered around, a few 'TV's,' Energon dispensers, couches and a dance floor.

"_Sweet!"_ Leo-Rah grinned to herself, and made her way over to a table where some of the other femmes were sharing Energon. Beta, Wildside, Quicksilver and the musical twins were softly conversing in Cybertronian as Leo-Rah approached.

"Hey femmes," greeted the Exige, and slipped into a spot next to Beta. The green and white Eos smiled serenely at her and offered her a cube of Energon.

"Leo-Rah, _finally_ you come out of your room. I've been waiting for you girl," smirked a black, green and gold Ford Gt-40. Leo-Rah grinned back at Wildside, asking, "Who's your victim? I know you've got something devious prank-wise in that processor of yours."

"Who...me?" Wildside said innocently. She sniggered, mimicking a 'lips zipped' gesture.

"As long as you don't mess with our speakers again Wild, we don't care," scoffed Muse, writing down a section of beats to some lyrics on a datapad. Lyrica was next to her red swirled twin, looking over her shoulder, approving the selection of rhythm.

"But it made Elita laugh."

"And made me fagged off. Remember I landed you with Aquaris? Don't get on the wrong side of my speakers again," warned Muse, handing the datapad to Lyrica, who took it and nodded before subspacing it.

"Guys, don't start again. I think we all heard enough of this the first time around," said Quicksilver quietly.

"Quicksilver, tell Muse, she can't take a prank."

"I can, but not when it's to do with my speakers. You _know_ they are my primary weapon, Wild," Muse groaned, hoping Wildside would drop it.

"You should all just shut up. Your annoying prattle can be heard from my table," whined a slightly bratty voice. The model- like, colourful Mini, Delira, had approached their table during the debate and was now looking disapprovingly at them.

"Shove your high-class 'noble' attitude where the sun don't shine, Delira," growled Muse. Lyrica quickly placed a placating silver hand on her sister, internally asking her to calm down.

Delira scoffed. Beta smiled at the pink, purple and gold model assuringly. "Please ignore them Delira. Negativity isn't good in the middle of a war," said Beta.

"You're a pacifist and optimist, Beta. Your words mean nothing," Delira said, before turning sharply on a high-heel and marching back to her table, nose in the air. Wildside cruelly imitated the model's walk, much to the amusement of Leo-Rah and the musical twins.

"What's got Delira looking like the Con's scatched her paint?" asked Arcee, coming up with her best friends, Firestar and Flare-up. They pulled in to a table next to Leo-Rah's.

"Just me 'n' Muse 'discussing' the prank on her speakers," smirked Wildside, slouching down into her seat comfortably. Muse sighed in exasperation at the mention of the prank again, much to Leo-Rah's amusement.

"You'd think she wouldn't be as picky. We're not cramped on the _Star_ anymore at least," murmured Flare-up.

"And the fact we still function," added Beta.

"Cheers to that!" said Firestar, raising her cube. The femmes clinked their cubes together and drank.

"Heh, you femmes look like humans out of this TV show," chuckled a masculine voice. Jazz had walked in when the motorbikes did, but instead chose to observe first. The Zodiac sister at the table locked her optics with his.

"You were quiet," she said simply. Jazz shrugged. He did it all the time.

"Well, I am a saboteur. Much like your sister Cancera. You are Leo-Rah, yeah?" asked Jazz. He had heard of 'Starblaze' the entertainer, but no-one had actually really known of the femme herself. The fact she was there intrigued him. And she wasn't bad to look at either.

"Yeah...Jazz, right?" Leo-Rah shot back. Jazz smirked in answer, discreetly admiring the femmes form. He always admired femme forms. She was small, but not tiny. Brown sensory panels on the sides of her helm looked like a lion's mane. Brown streaks on her forearms and calves stood out against the yellow of her armour, enhancing her shape. Blue optics stood out against the soft gold of her faceplates. She was not a statuesque beauty – but she was pretty damn _fine._

"What's Earth really like? The terrain, you know?" asked Beta curiously. Jazz tore his optics away from Leo-Rah to register the archers question. He shrugged again.

"From what I saw of it before was put on bed rest by the Hatchet, pretty rockin. Con's hate it though, cos everything's too organic for them."

Quicksilver read between the lines in his words and questioned quietly, "What happened to put you on bed rest?"

Jazz gave a harsh laugh, "Like I say with the humans, what's with the 20 questions? Don't you gals worry 'bout it." He seemed to remember something and quickly notified the femmes, "By the way, got a comm. from Prime. Elita would like to see all femmes, Autobot and Neutral, in room G2, next hallway, in about 10 minutes, Earth time. Make sure you guys adjust your chronometers, let the other femmes know, and...Welcome to Earth," the saboteur winked, before ducking over to talk to Blaster next to an energon dispenser.

"Huh..." murmured Arcee. She looked at Firestar and Flare-up, wondering if they had noticed that Jazz was not completely his usual self. Maybe Elita would know if something had happened. Firestar and Flare-up both gave her small nods as conversation resumed around the table.

Leo-Rah was staring after Jazz. She might not be emotionally perceptive like Tauri and Cancera, but some part of him felt like a facade. The laugh when they asked why he was off duty...not real, forced. The all-rounder frowned. While the saboteur had been talking, she had been curious about the real him. He seemed charming, but was that a facade too?

The lion coloured femme took in the TIC's frame. Shiny silver plates, electric blue visor – an optic injury? – and a built physique, Jazz was fine on the optics. But what was he like, Leo-Rah wanted to find out, uncommonly curious for once in her life. Disbanding her train of thought for the moment, she resumed laughing with her friends.

.

**Optimus Prime - office**

Optimus Prime was one _very_ satisfied mech. Having a bondmate who missed you as much as you missed her made for some interesting reunion interfacing results. Still, the flamed commander couldn't complain, not when he was so content. Things were starting to look up.

See, Optimus Prime had hid a little secret from his troops. He had not expected this many femmes alive after the destruction of Airol. At most ten femmes. But to have 52! It almost felt like they had won the war.

'_You just feel that way because Elita just fragged your processor out,'_ smirked a little voice in the back of his processor. Optimus sighed in contentment. Not even datapads could wipe the smile off his face. Reaching to the switch on his desk, he made a little 'open' light come on above his door. He wanted any of the new arrivals to re-introduce themselves to him and have a talk if need be. Not even 5 minutes after he switched on the light did the door chime sound.

"Come in," Optimus called out, clearing a few datapads out of the way so he could rest his elbows on his desk.

An ivory mech with burnt orange Cybertronian tattoos stepped through the open doorway, bowing his head in respect.

"Greetings sir. My name is Maelstrom," said the Pagani Zonda. Optimus nodded and gestured to the chair opposite him. Maelstrom sat down.

"Interesting tattoos. That one I can't make out, but the others...Justice; Peace; Courage. Fitting for the Autobot cause," acknowledged the Peterbilt commander.

"What can I do for you?" asked Optimus. Maelstrom said nothing for a minute, staring at the desk, before meeting his optics with his leaders.

"I believe I may have some information to share with you in the whereabouts of one of Elita's original femmes," the young ivory mech said seriously, wanting to convey the gravity of the situation. Optimus's sensors picked up their frequency and he became more alert, inclining his head. "Do I have full confidentiality sir?" asked the younger mech.

Optimus made a noise of agreement. "How did you happen to come by this information?"

Maelstrom hesitated for a bit, then blurted out, "I'm this Autobot's son and she told me her full stroy before she offlined. Sir, this is a bit of a lengthy tale, so I would appreciate no interruptions or questions until the end. But please believe me sir, on the validity of this, and in my alliance with the Autobot army."

Optimus's optics narrowed at the last statement, but nodded his assent.

Maelstrom went on, twisting his hands together slightly. "The orange Autobot Lancer is my mother. The mission that she and Glyph went on and both were supposedly killed was actually an ambush by Shockwave and Soundwave. Glyph had the easier fate than my mother Lancer. She self-offlined herself, but before Lancer could also follow, Soundwave prevented her, placing a mind stop in her internal switch. They melted Glyph down and used her parts to make the Decepticon spy Flipsides."

"What happened?" inquired the commander before he could stop himself.

Maelstrom cycled air through his vents heavily before continuing, "Lancer was taken back to Kaon, back to the prisons under Megatron's base. The cells were empty, she was the only one there. She still couldn't self offline, even though she wished she could. They left her alone for a few days, giving her just the barest minimum of Energon to survive."

"Then, a mech came down. He...started to torture her in the cells. Electro whips and blades were his favourites. Then, one day, she stopped screaming at his torture, so he did something new. He forced her to interface with him." Optimus's optics widened in surprise, '_Con's never cease to stoop to a new low.'_

"He also forced her to spark with him. It killed her inside to feel him in her spark, but when I was a youngling, she had gotten pretty good at blocking the bond. The Con didn't care about any grounders or other form of contraception, so Lancer found herself with spark. She decided to keep me, knowing I was an innocent spark. In the time before my emergence, she built a small hideaway in the wall by using the rusted cast off Con armour. The two times Hook visited her were to give her my protoform body. He had originally been sent by my creator so that she could stay functioning, and eventually he promised he would help her to look after me. Said sparklings should not be involved or harmed in a war until they were mature."

"Lancer was a true testament to Autobot courage, sir. Though she was a scientist and warrior, she managed to have me – with secret help – and raise me until I was a late youngling with light armour. She named me after her favourite weather event. She kept me hidden that whole time she was in the cells. Even though my creator did come down to hurt her, he only did it on what he called 'special occasions.'"

Maelstrom stopped, cycling more air through his vents in a nervous manner. "I grew up on my mothers knowledge of Cybertron. When I was almost into the 'teen' age, Lancer wanted me to escape. She knew she couldn't hide me for much longer, I was getting older. The opportunity came when Hook 'accidently' left the cell door open and a ventilation shaft plan on the floor. He's nasty, but not to young bots. Anyway, I escaped and went out into Cybertron for the first time."

"She told me to find a mech called 'Perceptor,' one of her friends from the science labs. I had to ask around a lot and many bots looked at me strangely, before I made my way out of Kaon and caught a hovercraft with a Neutral mech who knew Perceptor."

"What happened to Lancer?" Optimus broke in again, a sinking feeling in his spark.

The ivory Zonda swallowed before saying, "Not one orn after I found Perceptor, and he set me up with a job and everything, I heard some Con's in an alley discussing an event where an 'Autobot femme was found offlined in the cell.' Listening in to their conversation, I heard that my creator had come to see her and forced her to spark merge, but he had discovered the scar on her spark that meant she had a sparkling. He was outraged and bellowed at her questions as to where I was. She did not say anything. So he beat her until she was barely functioning. He then...apparently...ripped off her chest plates and simply plucked her spark out." A small tear of coolant leaked out of the Zonda's optic before trailing halfway down his cheek and disappearing into a seam.

"I...I've only told this to Perceptor, forgive me sir. I...I...felt the loss in the bond after the realisation. I had thought it was fear, but now I knew the truth."

"Elita will be very distraught at this news. I am glad that Lancer's sacrifice has not been in vain, Maelstrom, you seem like a good, honest mech," said Optimus gently. Inside, he was angry at the actions of this warriors creator. At the thought, his spark gave an ominous throb.

"Maelstrom, did you know whom your creator is?" the leader rumbled, wondering why a dark, cruel chuckle that sounded familiar floated through his processor.

Maelstrom was silent, looking at the right side of the room, biting down on his lower lip in hesitation, fearing for his leaders reaction. Steeling himself, the orange tattooed mech turned his helm slowly to look the Prime in the optics.

"My creator...(oh _Primus give me strength)_...is Megatron. You are my Uncle Optimus."

.

**A/n:** I hope at least one of you saw that coming. Ok, next chappie is Optimus's reaction + the whole plot bunny that's been hopping around in my brain.

And isn't that little blue/purple review button so…..click-able?


	5. Starscream successful

A/N: Ok, the first scene happened during the time of Optimus's and Maelstroms talk. There is also the reaction...but it's cut off. You know I don't own any of this, except my pretty rockin' Oc's. Now if there's anything you don't understand, let me know and I'll try and clear it up in a later chapter. You all know my disclaimers

_And a shout-out to ultimateanime12 : thanks for your loyal reviews!_

**Femmes and Sparklings chapter 5 – Starscream actually does something right for Megatron**

**Esperanza**

The door chime to the champagne coloured femmes suite rang softly. Esperanza looked up from where she was arranging her various fiction datapads on the bottom shelf on the wall facing the doorway. The lithe Astra convertible rose and palmed open the door. There stood Bumblebee with what looked like some of Earth's plant life in his hands.

"Uh...hi," the yellow Camaro said, extending the hand with the flowers towards her.

"Bee!" exclaimed Esperanza, stepping aside to let him in. Forgoing stepping in, Bee reached out and pulled her into an embrace, kissing the top of her helm.

"Missed you," he whispered.

"Me too. Too many years without someone hugging me like you do," said Esperanza affectionately, stepping back from his warm form. He offered the plant life towards her again. She looked at them questioningly, and then at her mechfriend, confusion on her faceplate.

"Oh, I forgot, you don't get it," exclaimed Bumblebee, slapping himself on the faceplate. Esperanza tilted her helm to the side, trying to make sense.

"It's an Earth custom...human males give their girlfriends flowers as a gift. Access the Earth world wide web, it should tell you all about it," mentioned the yellow mech. The champagne femme did so, going through the information efficiently. She took the flowers, which she had researched were called lilies.

"So...human Earth males give their partner the sexual parts of flora? Hmmm, a call to mate?" the small femme asked. Bee snorted in laughter at her analogy, remembering he had felt the same when Sam had explained the same concept.

"It's more the thought that counts, Esper."

"So, not a call to mate with you then?" the femme asked slyly, quirking an eyeridge cheekily. Bee sputtered at her words as she tilted her helm back to laugh. The yellow bot's faceplates tinged pink in embarrassment.

"Cheeky,' grumbled Bee, before tackling his femme friend to the ground, straddling her to press a fevered kiss to her lips. Reciprocating, Esparanza sighed into his mouth, basking in the attention. Ever since she had meet the bouncy yellow scout, she had been attracted. By their third date, she was in love. But she hadn't had the courage to say it to Bee yet. She feared rejection – irrational, but the fear was there all the same.

Bee broke the kiss, gently pressing his helm to hers, seeing his reflection faintly in her bright blue optics. He realised where he was, on top of the femme, and quickly scrambled off, sitting next to her, slaying his legs out. The Astra hugged him, snuggling into his chestplates.

"Mmm...you are without a doubt, the best kisser out of any mech I've ever kissed," said Esperanza, drawing little patterns on Bee's hood, tracing the black stripes.

"And considering I'm the second mech you've ever kissed, that only boosts my ego a little bit," Bee shot back.

"Last time I checked, you weren't the egotistic Sunstreaker," Esperanza teased back, letting Bee's arms come up around her.

"Touché."

"What's life been like here on Earth for you? I've heard we have to hide as much as possible," the femme inquired.

Bee shrugged. "It's been eventful and lonely with only five of us at first. Then Jazz was offline for a few years, Sideswipe and Jolt came. The battles have been intense, especially having everyone having to fight, even Ratchet, and Ratchet hates fighting. The humans though, the ones that know who we really are, respect us...one of my human friends is Sam, the one who killed Megatron the first time."

"All you 'bots are missing is the femme touch," suggested Esperanza. Bee squeezed her tighter.

"I hate seeing any femme fight, but the power and grace with which you fight always floors me, Esper," said Bee.

Esperanza was about to comment that femmes do have a right to be on the battlefield, but was interrupted when piercing, chaotic sounds blasted out of the ceiling speaker. It was the Decepticon alarm.

The two bots stared at the speaker in surprise, understanding dawning on their faceplates. Esperanza sighed, "Not even a full Earth day and the 'Con's have to battle us. Joy."

Bee leaped up, pulling the femme with him. They rushed out of her quarters, only pausing so Esperanza could snatch her rifle before speeding out into the hallway. There they joined the other femmes who had been in their rooms after their meeting with their commander. The Zodiac sisters were led by Sagittari and Capricornia, who barked out orders that they should all transform and roll out. Soon, sleek sportscars and other vehicles were racing to meet in the largest hangar at the bottom of the base, where Prime and Prowl would give them their battle orders.

.

**Before the Alarm – Optimus's office**

Optimus Prime was in a prime shock, spark pulsing a bit erratically as he stared at the mech – his newfound nephew – opposite him over the desk. His processor whirred at blinding speeds at the thought that this poor young mech had lived much of his life in a dark desolate place no normal Autobot would thrive in.

'_I have a nephew, Megatrons rape sparkling...'_ the thought echoed around and around his processor. This created so many new worries. Most of the other Autobots, Optimus knew, would not trust Maelstrom, or otherwise downright despise him.

"Sir...?" Maelstrom asked hesitantly, wondering if he should be worried.

Optimus shook his helm slightly to clear him of his haze and looked Maelstrom in the optics, rumbling, "Optimus. You may call me Optimus or Uncle Optimus if you wish when we are not heard by others. Only call me sir around the public. After all," Optimus chuckled ruefully, "We are related."

Maelstrom smiled weakly, glad for once in his life that he was related to someone. "Thank you, Uncle. You have no idea how good it feels to have another relation to be proud of."

"You are right, I do have no idea. Perhaps we should see Elita. She was close to Lancer, as well as the rest of her team, and was devastated at the time of Lancer's disappearance. She will be glad to meet you," suggested Optimus, having felt his bondmates questioning brush against his spark. He rapidly reassured her and refocused back on the ivory mech in front of him. Maelstrom's frame had sagged in relief, now relaxed in his commander's and uncle's presence.

"Would she be alright with it? I'd like to know more things about my mother," said Maelstrom. Optimus opened his mouth, but snapped it closed when he heard the klaxon of the Decepticon alarm. He abruptly slid his battlemask into place and stood up, aweing Maelstrom with his powerful aura.

"Go to your battle organiser as quick as you can and alert all Autobots you see. It seems the Decepticons mean business young one," ordered Optimus, warming up his battle systems, checking his energon level and Prowl simultaneously.

Maelstrom nodded briefly and ran out, shouting as he went. Optimus quickly contacted Elita and ordered her to gather the femmes and meet in the hangar in section E-12. She acknowledged and withdrew from the contact, whispering against his spark, _'Be careful lover._"

Optimus fisted his hand above his spark, optics blazing with restrained fury. The Decepticons were not to win this fight.

**Hangar in E-12**

Prowl stood next to Jazz in the hangar, watching the Autobot forces trickle in and arrange themselves comfortably around the hangar; a difficult feat considering there were now so many. Optimus Prime strode into view with the representative for the Neutrals trailing behind him. The less armoured grey mech quickly introduced himself as Greystorm before shooting an impatient look at the Autobot leader who was surveying the room as the Autobot femmes marched in together to arrange themselves in front of the mechs.

'_Yo Prowler, bet ya a cube of high-grade and 10 credits that Greystorm's gonna ask for protection,'_ smirked Jazz over their brother-bond. Prowl shook his head almost imperceptibly, chevron reflecting the light, shooting back, _'You know I've learnt not to take a bet or dare with you.'_

'_Aww, still upset you had to dance around the Iacon tower singing "Jazz is so cool he makes me forget logic?"'_

'_Fragger. Be serious, Teletraan's satellites picked up at least 50 Cons with more incoming. Must have seen the _Ark _enter.'_

'_Tch...Con's suck. We just got in a whole heap of femmes and we haven't even got a day to enjoy em!"_

Prowl scowled at the smirking saboteur, grumbling back, '_Honestly, can you focus? Is all you think about interfacing?'_

A sly grin. _'Well, considering I've had nothing but my hand for the past couple thousand years or so...yeah.'_ Doorwings flapped in annoyance as the police car Viper shot a disgusted look at Jazz. But underneath it all, Prowl knew why Jazz was so interested…

**Flashback, after talking with Capricornia and Jazz leaving the rec room.**

Prowl was just about to open the door to his new office when he heard footsteps echoing down the hall. With a small smirk, the Police Viper turned to greet his bond-brother – he could tell those footsteps anywhere.

"Hey Prowler…..missed ya," smirked Jazz, that same cocky smirk he had always worn.

An answering smirk, "You too…Jazz." The taller mech held out his arms and Jazz indulged his bond brother in some little received affection in the form of a hug. They embraced, relief at knowing the other was alive and _here_ echoing throughout their sparks. Prowl frowned as he felt some….pain….in Jazz's spark.

"Jazz…..I can feel something's wrong. What happened?" questioned the 2IC. Jazz stepped out of the hug, helm pointed down at the floor.

"Prowl…I'll tell ya in ya office."

The two mechs walked in, seating themselves in the new chairs.

"What happened? I can feel this sadness and pain, Jazz, and it is making me admittedly anxious," worried the tactician, a hand trailing over his chestplates.

Jazz looked Prowl squarely in the optics and then retracted his visor, showing bright blue optics and Prowl knew the sign – it was one of supreme trust. This only worried Prowl more about the seriousness of the situation.

"Well, let's just say this incident that happened makes me appreciate ya more as a brother. Ya read the data we transmitted on your way here?" Prowl nodded. "We left out an important fact about the battle with Megatron…..I died Prowl. The slagger ripped me in fragging two," Jazz finished quietly to Prowls stunned face. When it seemed like Prowl wasn't going to say anything, Jazz went on, "And I was dead until about a month ago. Bee's human friend, with the Matrix, brought me back. And I thank Primus every day for lettin' me come back."

Prowl was quiet, emotions roiling around in his processor. He had not felt the loss in their bond because of the magnitude of the distance. So he did what he felt was prudent and sent a wave of comfort and brotherly love over the bond. Jazz clinged to it, glad to have told Prowl. The Solstice chuckled dryly and said, "Kinda makes ya put things in perspective Prowler. I had two wishes when I first passed. First being I didn't have the chance to say goodbye to ya, and second being I didn't have a family of my own outside of ya."

An energon tear trickled out the side of Jazz's left optic, and Prowl got up to embrace his bond-brother, holding each other in comfort once more. Knowing he had lost the closest thing to a true family for a time had completely sobered Prowl up.

"Well, I'm here now. Making sure you complete your datapads and everything," joked Prowl, releasing again. Jazz chuckled.

"Sorry to unload on ya Prowler, but…." Jazz started, but was gently shushed by Prowl.

"It's ok Jazz," smiled Prowl.

**End Flashback**

Prowl quickly pulled himself out of his thoughts as turned to Jazz, frowning.

'_Too much information. Listen to Prime, he's about to speak._'

Optimus stood to his full height from where he had been conversing with Greystorm while Prowl and Jazz had been having their internal conversation. Casting an appraising decision over the bots assembled, he sent details to Prowl faster than the speed of sound, who nodded, approving his leader's decision.

Clearing his vocaliser, Optimus called out, "I know you've heard the alarms. The Decepticons are racing towards the plain outside our valley and base. We must force them off, but we require mechs to stay behind to protect the base and Neutrals. So the following..." mentioning to Prowl, Optimus backed off while Prowl temporarily took charge.

"Maelstrom, Trailbreaker, Hot Rod, Jolt, Perceptor, Blaster, First Aid, Huffer and Ratchet, stay back and await us. No complaints," the black and white commanded before ordering another 15 bots to do the same. The mechs nodded firmly.

"Jazz, don't even think of coming – you're still injured." The silver mech pouted.

"Femmes, stay as a group, attack from the west flank in your own group. We don't know your fighting style well so stick together. Ultra Magnus and Kup, collect a contingent of warriors and defend from the east. Bluestreak, Blurr and Moonracer, get to the top hill of the valley and set up your guns. Whoever not chosen by Kup and Magnus is the main body group attacking through the main valley entrance from the south. Prepare for battle and roll out immediately!" the 2IC ordered. The bots stood at attention waiting from the nod from their Prime.

Blue optics shining, Optimus gave a stately nod, calling, "ROLL OUT!"

In a flurry of action, the sound of hydraulics and metal clanging against metal filled the air as the bots assembled transformed and sped out of the hangar. Immediately, the colourful, sleek forms of the femmes broke off from the main group and headed out in a westerly direction, before a group of mechs headed by Kup and Ultra Magnus headed east.

HUD readings went red as the Con's signatures came into range. There were 60, but by the size of the rapidly approaching figures in the sky, they were big brutes. And there, slamming down to Earth on the desert plain in a shower of dirt, was Megatron, red optics glinting with murderous intent.

Rising to his full height, sun glinting off the silver jagged armour, Megatron cackled, "I see you have more lackeys than usual this time Prime! We are disappointed we didn't get invited to this little reunion."

"What do you want Megatron?" demanded Optimus, racing forward to transform 20 metres away from the huge form of his brother.

"Oh, your helm and processor on a platter, is all!" Megatron mocked. 30 seekers flew through the air while another 29 Con's lined up behind him.

Energon swords unsheathed with a '_snick'_ and Optimus lunged forward, starting the battle.

"YEW! Let's go babe's!" yelled Sideswipe, somersaulting past the front lines to tackle Thundercracker, who had been slow getting off the ground. The yells of both Decepticon and Autobot filled the air as they rushed towards each other with the intent to win.

There were cries of mechs in agony from the west as the femmes began their attack. Elita and Chromia led, blasters emitting sparks as they shot. Beta was at the back, shooting electro-arrows into the air where they made their mark on any Con who got too close. After being electrocuted, the mechs would lie on the ground, twitching, while Quicksilver would skate past, pulling out the arrows to return them to Beta, while Ariea and Sagittari would run behind and disable the mobility lines.

Leo-rah was having the time of her life with Swindle, who was slowly getting irritated at the dancing, laughing femme with her missile launcher letting loose a rocketing missile every time he came nearer.

"Irritating femme," he growled, taking a swipe at her only to be targeted again, but this time the missile caught him in the shoulder and sent him spinning. Clear laughter filled the air.

"You can't get me, na-na-nah-na-nah!" the Exige trilled, and leaped away to find a new opponent.

Meanwhile Scorpia was fending off Ravage and Laserbeak with her gun. The robo-panther suddenly sprang up from behind her and snatched the gun off her hand while Laserbeak swooped to distract her. Ravage crunched the gun in his maw, metal glinting in the morning sun.

Batting Laserbeak down, Scorpia snarled at Ravage and activated a long-unused compartment on both arms. The mechano-cat yowled as flames hit his armoured hide, melting it and twisting the wires as he writhed. The Torino smirked slightly, retracting her flame-throwers into her arms once more, leaving Ravage broken on the earth.

'_I'll be slagged if I let a cassette beat me,'_ the black and orange femme thought sourly, running over to Capricornia, who was taking on Motormaster. The purple femme snarled as Motormaster ducked her plasma shots and pinned her to the ground with one hand. Grunting, the weapons specialist kicked and flailed, but to no avail. Motormaster chuckled darkly and squeezed her neck cables harder. Suddenly a blur of black and orange tackled the 'Con.

"Good work Scorpia!" called Capricornia, leaping up from the ground and looking around for her commander as the battle raged. More 'Cons had come, and now the fighting numbers were roughly even. She saw a flash of rose and headed over to Elita, knowing Scorpia would follow, regardless of if Motormaster was down or not.

As she and her youngest sister ran, she heard a wild yell and saw Wildside jump over them, claws extended as she tackled Motormaster. The black, green and gold femme then twisted them, taking apart the neural network in his arms. An anguished howl met their audios as they kept running. Above them, the small femmes of the Jewel gestalt were covering them as they ran, small guns on their wings working at a furious pace. Wildside joined them, all the other femmes seeming to have the same idea; get together in a bunch and attack that way. Defensible and easy.

Flare-up was the only femme not following. Barricade had come up behind her as she turned to go, and swiped her to the ground. Pinning her arms and legs down as she struggled, the Police Con growled and deftly snapped restraints on the red and orange femmes wrists.

"Let me GO!" she yelled, twisting around, trying to buck the larger mech off. She kicked his pedes, hoping to distract him with pain. Barricade growled again and tightened his grip on her, "No."

Hearing Flare-up's scream, Arcee turned to find her younger best-friend trussed up and over the black and white Con's shoulder. The pink motorcycle felt her energon run cold.

"FLARE!" Arcee called, attempting to run to her aid, but a pair of strong light blue arms held her.

"Hold still Arcee! We'll get her back, we need to re-group first!" yelled Chromia over the din of the battle, dragging her subordinate over to their femme huddle. Muse and Lyrica were directing blasts of soundwaves towards the Con's from their speakers, who were backing away from the huddle.

In the flurry of activity, they didn't see Starscream circling high in the sky in the cover of some clouds. He observed as the femmes, including Moonracer who had abandoned her post to help her fellow femmes, organised themselves into one group, defending against the attack.

Starscream, if he had been in bipedal mode, would have grinned fiendishly. Their position was _perfect_. Adjusting his modified gun barrels inbuilt in his wings, he prepared to complete his mission. And he would not fail.

The white and red jet cut his engine, turned downwards, and allowed himself to plummet with dizzying speed towards the ground to his target.

Cancera, being a saboteur with sensitive audios, heard the high-pitched whine of a jet rushing through the air first. Looking towards the sky, her blue optics widened as she saw Starscream hurtling right at them, flashes of light indicating the fire of bullets.

"Elita!" called the green femme in a panic. As she did so, the first of Starscreams bullets hit. As they neared her body, it turned out not to be a bullet at all – but a self-injecting vial filled with a noxious yellow liquid. Elita turned from her shooting just as a vial pierced through her armour and injected into her energon lines. All the femmes were soon all crying out as the bullet vials embedded into their armour and injected the substance into their bodies.

"_Optimus! They shot us with…some…-thing…and…kzzt"_ Elita tried to warn through the bond, but her systems had shut down in rapid succession.

Optimus, feeling the distress call, was momentarily distracted from his battle with Megatron. In that one fatal moment, Megatron shoved him away and powered up his canon, aiming straight at his enemy's spark. Optimus was too late to counter attack or move.

It seemed to happen in slow motion – the sparks flying from the cannon as it charged, the cackle of Megatron, the scrabbling feet of Optimus as he tried to move. And then as the ball of power discharged, a black and white blur threw Optimus to the ground.

Optimus gaped at the scene of his 2IC, Prowl, taking the hit for him and falling to the ground. Limp. Unmoving. But optics, though dim, operational. His armour on the left side was in tatters. And a faint blue light peeked out from a crack in his spark chamber. Energon was pooling in the hollows of his armour and the ground.

"Decepticons, retreat!"

The gravelly voice of the silver tyrant snapped Optimus out of his horror. Releasing a parting shot at Megatron as he was picked up by some of his seekers, Optimus quickly but gently scooped up Prowl and ran to the femme section to see what other incidents had occurred. The sinking feeling in his spark returned. In one day more Autobots arrived and they were attacked and now Prowl was critically injured.

'_Primus, it would be great if tomorrow you could give me the day off,'_ Optimus thought dryly, but halted at the sight of the femmes. They lay on the ground, each and every one excluding Flare-up, not moving, and optics dim. However the fair whirr of systems resetting and running assured Optimus of their life.

"Autobots! Transport all injured to base immediately. Reports can wait," ordered Optimus, handing Prowl off to Wheeljack, who loaded him onto Ironhide's flatbed. Flashing his headlights at his leader, the black GMC Topkick left and peeled out as fast as he dared.

Kneeling down next to Elita where she lay, Optimus sighed.

"Not even one day back with me and you're getting into trouble. As he picked her up, a powerful jolt of electricity raced through their systems and arced away from their bodies where Optimus touched. Reeling back, the leader was confused. Touching her again, the flamed truck found the strange event did not occur again.

'_Let's get you to Ratchet, my love, to see what Starscream has done to you.' _

.

A/N REVIEWS PLEASE!


	6. The Virus

**A/n: Wondering what's happening? Me too. ;) Nah, I know what's going on. So will Prowl survive? What's up with the female Autobots? And what happens when matters of the spark come into play? We'll find out in this chapter! You know my disclaimers. REVIEWS ARE LOVED!**

**Femmes and Sparklings Chapter 6 – Matters of the spark (the virus)**

_Ratchet_

The CMO had received the communiqué that Prowl and all the femmes were injured, and now himself, First Aid, and Jolt, were preparing for the incoming. The femmes, however, could wait a little while longer –Prowl was the more critical of the two problems, it seemed. If the shot tore off too much of the spark casing, they would lose Prowl.

The door of the med bay burst open with a crash as Blurr sped in holding a statis – locked Prowl. Ratchet said nothing, mentioned to a private room and gathered his tools. His sole focus was on making sure the recently arrived 2IC was still functioning to enjoy their new planet.

And to keep everything in a sense of order, not chaos.

**Xxxxxx**

Ratchet was utterly and completely slagged. He had been up for the past day and a half trying to stabilise Prowl and also finding out what was ailing the femmes. Wheeljack had taken a sample of the virus from the femme systems and had decoded the virus perfectly, with the help of Perceptor.

The news of what the virus was only made Ratchet feel like more slag.

The CMO had two important issues that he needed to discuss with Optimus before he even thought of recharging. Prowl and the virus, and both were connected.

Wearily his commander, Ratchet staggered to his office and threw himself into his chair. Resting his head in his palms, Ratchet could only process the ramifications for the whole Autobot army because of the virus.

The door to the med bay slid open with a hiss and the heavy footfalls of the flamed Optimus Prime came through the doors of Ratchets office. Nodding his head respectfully to Optimus as he sat, Ratchet sank down in his chair, ready for the explanation to come.

"How's Prowl?" Optimus asked.

"Stabilised…for now. His case is trickier than the femme's virus, but not unsolvable. If the virus had not happened, then there would be no hope for Prowl." Ratchet shook his head in disgust, "The virus has Starscream's designation all over it."

"How do Prowl and the virus relate?"

Shuttering his optics with a sigh, Ratchet went on. "Starscream – the slagger – has gotten a hold of one of our fertility drugs for the spark and modified it for his own purposes. The basics of it is that a femmes spark will recognise a mech who it most compatible with theirs in order to bond and create a sparkling."

Silence. Then, "Wha—what? It forces femmes to bond…..and spark? How….." sputtered Optimus.

"I won't confuse you with the specifics, but a femmes spark will let a discharge of energy out of the chest area towards the mech most compatible – indicating that that would be the future bondmate and co-creator. There must be a touch to the chestplates or somewhere near that region. In addition to this, until that time that the femme bonds and creates a sparkling orb, any weapons system - excluding blades - registered to their system will not work, and some armour panels have retracted. They are also not going to be able to change into their alt-mode." Ratchet rubbed his fingers over his optics. _Primus_, he needed a good recharge.

"Elita discharged some electricity when I reached her on the battlefield," Optimus exclaimed, suddenly understanding. Ratchet confirmed with a nod, "That only confirms the presence of the bondmate."

Optimus then frowned. He knew what Starscream was getting at now. "So the virus is designed to render the femmes helpless until they have their sparkling, and also unhappy due to bonding not out of free will, thus reducing morale and also keeping the mechs busy with both protecting the base and femmes from Decepticon attacks. And if the Cons do happen to kill one bot on one side of the bond, there is the chance that the other half may also perish, thus wiping our numbers out faster," he thought aloud.

"Give the bot a prize. I knew you were our commander for a reason," muttered Ratchet sarcastically. Optimus shot a glower at the CMO.

"But Starscream was sloppy Optimus. There are flaws in the virus – Perceptor told me so. After the sparkling orb is formed, the femmes actually get their armour and weapons recognition back with enhanced parental protocols. Meaning that the femmes will be more protective while carrying. However, if they encounter the same virus again, they are not affected the second time. For bondmates, this information matters. You and Elita will have to have a sparkling before she can even think about returning for full duty."

Optimus chuckled sarcastically, "She'll be happy about that. Any other flaws?"

The CMO nodded, "Yes. The femme doesn't necessarily have to be with that mech that the spark recognises as the most suitable, but there is better chances for sparking an orb if they do."

"And what of Prowl? You said he was linked to the virus."

Ratchet did not reply immediately, choosing his next words carefully. He could not look at his commander right now. This was a matter of doing something against Prowl's will.

Ratchet's next words were spoken softly. "He is stabilised….for now. The spark casing is repaired as it all the melted circuits and such. But his spark energy is not high enough to function his whole body completely, and there are only so many stored energy units I could spare for him. The only other way is for him to bond with one of the femmes to receive enough energy or else he will perish. In this, the virus is both a blessing and a curse."

Optimus sighed heavily. On one hand, the virus was a fail-safe for Prowl so that a compatible spark could be known to his, but on the other, the bond may not settle, with Prowl and/or the femme not happy with who they were with.

"Is there a way to ask Prowl for permission?" Optimus suggested.

Ratchet shook his head, "No. I can't wake him up, as the energy he expends re-booting will prove fatal."

Optimus pondered the situation. "How long does he have before a bond needs to be made?"

"Within the next few days."

Rubbing his chin thoughtfully Optimus said, "Do everything you can to save him. Knowing Prowl, if this is the only logical way to save him, then he would surely prefer that than off-lining."

Ratchet nodded. "At least Prowl has a chance now. Not only for life, but for love as well if he lets himself, and if the femme is so inclined."

Optimus stood and clapped a hand on Ratchet's shoulder. "I know you will do the best, my friend. Get some more energon and re-charge, tomorrow is a new day."

Optimus then turned to walk out but paused. Turning only his head, Optimus made one last request. "When these pressing issues are dealt with, I would like you to run a health check on the mech designated Maelstrom. Don't ask why, after the examination I will tell you. But it would be much appreciated."

Ratchet nodded and waved off his commander, who left. When the medbay was silent once more, Ratchet slowly stood from his chair, hydraulics hissing, to sate his curiosity about one aspect of the virus. He would not, and _could not_ recharge until he knew for sure. Exiting the office, he walked down the row of Autobot femmes in the main section of the medbay, not caring for any at this moment save for one.

He stopped at the foot of Moonracers berth, looking down at her smooth features, curves on her face so unlike his own hard lines. Moving his chartreuse bulk to her side, the medic uncertainly reached out a hand over her face.

'_Are we destined? Are we not? And if not, who? Too many questions with no clear answers only serve to prolong my irritation and anxiety,' _he thought, pondering all that had been bothering him. Lowering his other hand towards the middle of her chest, at the seam where the chestplates opened to reveal the spark chamber, Ratchet took in the Medbay's sanitised smelling air, vented it, and touched Moonracer's body. The effect was instantaneous. Energy snapped through his sensors as a bolt of electricity leaped from her chestplates and exploded against his own. Throwing his head back, Ratchet gave a short, sharp cry as he tried to escape the phenomenon. Twisting, the CMO landed on the floor, venting heavily as the energy dissipated. He felt as if he could cry in both relief and remorse.

"_She's most compatible with me. Another blessing and a curse. We've been together so long it has felt like we've bonded, but now it could be a reality. But I won't be able to deal if she's hurt and under my hands, __**I won't!**_" Ratchet dipped his head onto his chest, still reeling at the realisation. Collecting himself, he stood.

Placing his hand on Moonracer's cheek once more, Ratchet placed a gentle kiss on the arch of her cheek. Making sure that no camera's had captured the moment (heaven forbid the crew knew Ratchet had a spark!), Ratchet slunk off towards his quarters, and fell into an immediate recharge.

.

**The next day**

Optimus and Ratchet were in the CMO's office once again, discussing the pressing problem of the virus and of Prowl. Optimus, who was rubbing his nasal ridge in a gesture he picked up from Lennox, groaned in frustration. It seemed that whatever avenue of action they discussed, it would end up with the femmes being embarrassed by randomly discharging energy to some random mech when they touched.

"Ratchet, which option do you think is best?" the Autobot rumbled, wanting the past week to rewind and start anew.

The CMO wasted no time in replying, "Rouse the femmes, have all the unbonded ones walk to Prowl and place their hand over his chestplate, and if one happens to be compatible, we go from there. In the meantime, I can't keep them here. They need to be able to live their lives as best they can."

"But there are so many issues that can come up and go wrong!" exclaimed Optimus. "What if a 'compatible' mech doesn't want to be told 'no,' that it's their right to the femme? And not to mention jealousy among the crew if a mech gets a femme that another wanted or was with? I cannot simply expect that **every** bot under my command will be reasonable about this Ratchet."

"True, but we need to try. You of all know we must uphold the morale and not let the Decepticons dirty trick keep us down! Grow some bolts! Or has Elita already fragged the good sense out of you?" shot Ratchet, irritated at Optimus's attitude. Instead of the reprimand he expected, Ratchet was surprised to see a small smirk on his leader and friends faceplates.

"I knew I made you CMO for a reason," Optimus tossed Ratchet's line from last night's discussion back at him. Ratchet merely narrowed his optics and turned to walk out, Optimus following.

Sighing, Ratchet reached for Elita's monitor and flicked a switch, muttering, "And let the outcry begin."

**Xxxxxxx~oOo~xxxxxxx**

'_Where am I? It's dark, no light, save for that in my spark. There's Jazz, a bright, burning ball of energy, but I can feel his worry. It's like he's conflicted. Worried and apprehensive, yet….glad? I've never felt Jazz like this, and I should know, he's my bond brother. And…..wait…the last thing I remember is protecting Optimus. What is this….other energy? Why can't I recall what happened?'_

'_Prowl.'_ The feminine voice tickled his thought sensors.

'_Who's there? Are you in my spark or my processor?'_

'_Yes – your spark.'_

'_WHY! My spark is private!'_

'_It was the only way to save you.'_

'_Save me from what?'_

'_Don't you remember?'_

'_No.'_

'…_Optimus was momentarily distracted in battle and you jumped in front of the shot. The damage was enough to nearly offline you, but Ratchet managed to repair you completely, save for one thing. Your spark energy was too low to power your functions and you needed the energy of another.'_

'_Thus, this bond.'_

'_Yes.'_

'_Was this the only way to keep me from the well of sparks?'_

'_Yes.'_

'_Then logic dictates that if this was the only way to save me, then Ratchet did right.'_

A wave of relief poured over the bond. '_I'm glad you haven't completely rejected the idea.'_

A brief period of silence. Then Prowl asked, '_Why are you here now and I repeat myself from earlier….who are you?'_

'…_..I'd rather introduce myself in person. As for why I'm here, Ratchet was trying to online you, but he can't and asked me to revive you through the bond. He asks if you could please boot up to online status.'_

'_Ratchet asked 'please'?'_

A feeling of laughter passed through, '_No, he actually said "Get that fragger to boot the pit online now!"'_

Prowl sent back a weak chuckle and withdrew from the contact. He had the world of the living to get back to.

The first thing that Prowl saw when his optics onlined was Ratchet's grumpy, tired faceplates above him. Shuttering his optics a few times, he allowed a few seconds to go by as his processor and battle computer slowly gathered itself into full capacity. The sterile scent of the medbay filled his olfactory sensors, and the quiet whirring of vents inside Cybertronian frames and beeps of medical equipment filled his audios.

"Welcome to the land of the functional, Prowl," said Ratchet. The medic helped Prowl to sit up.

Looking at the CMO, the 2IC questioned, "I wasn't dreaming, was I?" Before Ratchet could answer, a soft, melodic voice did it for him. "No Prowl, the bond is real."

Turning his head to the right, there, sitting on the berth next to his, was a pretty moon silver femme. Average in size, but kind in expression, she graced Prowl with a gentle smile. A tattoo was inked under her left optic in blue ink: a tattoo in the shape of the zodiac sign of Taurus. Holding out her hand, she murmured, "I'm Tauri, the 6th Zodiac sister…..and, um, now your bondmate."

Prowl said nothing, but took her hand gently and pressed a light kiss to the top of it in a display of rare emotion. "Thank you," the 2IC said firmly, "For both saving my life and for making such a sacrifice for me to do so."

Tauri let her faceplates heat a bit and said, "It's ok."

A snort from Ratchet caused the new bondmates to look sharply at the CMO. "Well, as long as you two don't kill each other, then I'm going to leave you guys here and sort out the other thousand things I have to do. Prowl, if you even think of getting up off this berth yet, I will not let you see a datapad for the next week. Clear?" And with that, Ratchet left the private room, shutting the door behind them.

Prowl looked at Tauri, and Tauri looked at Prowl. "So…..where do we start?" asked the silver femme.

**In the medbay.**

As Ratchet entered the main section of the medbay, he was greeted with the sight of femmes being checked over by Jolt and Wheeljack, and a frantic First Aid as he rushed up to him.

"Sir!" the Protectobot called as he stopped before the CMO. "We have a situation."

Ratchet smirked wryly, "Aid, the past few _days_ have been a situation."

The red and white ambulance shook his head, "No, Ratchet, this is really bad. I was doing the pre-lim checks on Arcee when she asked if we got Flare-up back. I looked around and realised that, in our rush to save Prowl, we didn't do a correct head count."

Ratchet's circuits momentarily stopped, before he enunciated, "Aid, where is Flare-up?"

"Arcee said she was carted off by Barricade before the attack…." He mumbled. Ratchet sighed heavily and pinched his nasal ridge in frustration. '_Yay, another thing to address. Primus, please be nice in the next week…..please….'_

"Aid, anything else? We can't do anything for Flare-up right at this moment, as much as it pains me to say."

The ambulance shuffled his pedes in a shy manner, faceplates heating in the Cybertronian equivalent of a blush, rubbing the back of his neck before saying, "Ratch, how mad do you think everyone will be if they find out I'm compatible with not one, but five femmes?"

Ratchet frowned, "What the pit do you mean Aid?"

"Well, I was on-lining the femmes Onyx, Topaz, Sapphire, Ruby and Emerald (they were in the same berth), and I accidentally brushed over Onyx's chestplates, and all of a sudden, bolts of energy all lifted from all of their chestplates and hit mine! Not just Onyx, but all five femmes of the Jewel combiner. This virus says I'm the best for all of them. What am I going to do Ratchet?" asked First Aid worriedly.

Ratchet couldn't decide whether to laugh or be insanely worried for the younger medic. So he went for the lesser evil. Choking and gasping, Ratchet began to laugh, and did so harder when he saw Aid's dismayed faceplates. "A-Aid…you…..have a harem!" he CMO chortled.

Aid disgruntledly crossed his arms over his chest, scowling at his boss's levity. Collecting himself, Ratchet, clapped a hand on his protégées shoulder, and said, "Don't worry Aid. You may be the best for their spark, but you don't have to do it if you don't want to. It's the same for every femme here."

First Aid let out a sigh of relief at the fact, and Ratchet made his way to Elita's side. The femme commander had been quiet and pensive after on-lining choosing to sit up in her berth and stay quiet while she watched Ratchet and First Aid at work. She had lost more armour than most other femmes, who, at most, lost a few armour panels. But Elita had only the bare minimum covering her abdomen and thighs, leaving only her pelvic plating in between. All other armour had remained, but the armour missing only highlighted the need for Elita to spark and regain both the armour and her weapons capability. Without them, the femme commander would be a sitting duck.

"Elita. How are you?" Ratchet asked, quickly flicking a scanner over her body.

Hard optics pierced his as the femme spoke. "What happened to me and my femmes and where. Is. My. Bondmate?"

"Easy…... All will be explained in due time. But it's not the best of circumstances for you and the femmes."

"Just tell me Ratchet," Elita said shortly.

"Ok. Just make sure you listen with an open mind. Not for me, but the femmes and yourself." Ratchet took a deep vent and explained all about the virus and the consequences, the conditions of it, the few flaws, and how it would affect the Autobot army as a whole. He then explained about what happened to Prowl. All through the explanation, Elita's optics got narrower, and narrower, until they were icy blue slits. When Ratchet finished his talk, Elita's hands were trembling in barely suppressed rage.

"Starscream's aft is _**mine!**_" the rose coloured femme snarled. Ratchet almost felt sorry for Starscream at the deadly expression on Elita's faceplates…almost. The fragger had it coming to him.

"Yes, yes, in due time. But first you need all your weapons systems and armour back before you can even think about going after Starscream, let alone be on _duty_," placated Ratchet.

"Frag that, I'll tear him apart with my bare hands," she hissed. Ratchet sighed…..there was only one mech who was even remotely capable of calming Elita when she was so riled. And Ratchet had only seen the femme commander like this on rare occasions before. The CMO quickly his commander, telling him Elita was online and more than ready to see him.

Ratchet hoped Optimus would get here before they booted Chromia up fully. He didn't really want to deal with Ironhide's trigger happy femme along with a pissed Elita.

.

**While the above events were happening – Prowl's private room (medbay).**

"Where do we start? How about with telling me why you so willingly volunteered to save me and be my bondmate?"

"There was a virus that Starscream shot towards us," Tauri began, looking at Prowl, "And it causes us to need both to have a sparkmate and create a sparkling. The moment Optimus was distracted – and when you saved him – was because that was the moment we all fell."

"Logically, this virus enhances sparking and sparkmating protocols," Prowl stated matter-of-factly.

Tauri nodded, "Yes. But the reason why I bonded to you was because the virus deemed that my spark is compatible to yours. Wheeljack and Perceptor apparently derived the virus code down to the base and figured out that if the femme touches the mechs chestplates, or vice versa, then the spark will give a signal – a bolt of energy – to the others chestplates."

"What did Ratchet do? Line all the femmes up and ask them to go past and touch my chestplates?" Prowl deadpanned.

"He did actually. Then he put them back offline."

"Oh. Well. And you are compatible." Tauri nodded her head. An awkward silence followed this pronouncement, as Prowl was planning how to go about this, Tauri swinging her legs back and forth over the edge of the berth. Then Prowl broke it. "You said the virus makes you create a sparkling orb once bonded…..when you gave me the energy….did you…?"

"No, there wasn't enough energy between us to create an orb." The silver 2000 firebird could feel a faint sense of relief at the news. And she knew Prowl had a right to. She felt relieved when Ratchet told her she was clear. Bonding to a mech she didn't know was enough to deal with, but to have a sparkling at the same time? No. Tauri wanted to fall in love with Prowl, so that any sparkling they had would be created out of love. Not necessity.

"Good. It makes the situation a little less delicate, if you don't mind my being blunt," nodded Prowl.

"Bluntness can be good sometimes. Refreshing even. And, now that we are bonded, I'd like to be honest with you Prowl." Tauri said softly.

Prowl's gaze softened. "I never thought I'd be bonded. Not ever in all my years I would have dreamed it."

"Why? If I may say so, you _are_ a handsome mech," said Tauri shyly.

"Thank you," mumbled the tactician, "But it's not because of what I look like, or because of my rank. It's because every single femme I ever went out with, and trust me, there are not many, wanted to change who I was. I know the names that are whispered when others think my back is turned. Cold-sparked; boring; tight-aft, stick-in-the-mud who wouldn't know emotion if it bit him in the nasal ridge. The femmes I went out with wanted me to be 'more outgoing and less interested in work' if I recall what one said. They didn't accept me for who I was at the spark. _That's_ why I never thought I'd be bonded. If I must ask you one thing, it's to never try and change me, Tauri," Prowl finished, a note of finality in his voice. Tauri, who had been listening silently, slid off her berth and tentatively sat next to her new bondmate and took his hand in hers. Prowl watched her with an inscrutable look on his faceplates as the moon silver femme gently traced lines onto his palm, her helm pointed down towards it.

After a few moments she turned her helm and looked directly into his optics. "You know, when I first saw you after my transformation into my alt mode at the introduction, I could feel the isolation rolling off your spark. It part of a thing in Cancera's and my programming, where we have this method of severe empathy."

She then chuckled ruefully, "And I wanted to know you. Seems like my habits as a therapist on Cybertron still present themselves while a sharpshooter. But just by one look, I _know_ that you are a good, if not **great**, mech. Someone who isolates themselves to a few close friends, a few distant ones, and acquaintances – and who has a high rank as 2IC - can only be a bot worth respecting, for he puts his own feeling of isolation below his duty, to protect and serve. Because of this, I am honoured to be your bondmate Prowl. I never expect you to change," she finished softly, never taking her optics off of Prowls.

Prowl felt the honesty of her words through their bond, and sent a wave of gratitude. He shuttered his optics and let the peace of the moment flow through them both. Tauri then gently set his hand down and stood up.

"Now, on to more pressing matters. Do you know if there is an extra room in your quarters?" she asked, more business-like. Prowl nodded. "Yes. You don't have to move into my quarters – you don't have to."

"I want to – but not fully. I just want to….test the waters. I want to make this work."

"As do I. I also won't pose the restriction on you about the openness of our bond. If you want it open, that's fine. If you want it closed as well. But I think there are times where it is prudent to close the bond off," suggested Prowl. It was Tauri's turn to nod. A rap on the door sounded and the voice of Ratchet was heard.

"Tauri, get out here for your check-up. You can talk to Prowl later," the CMO called.

Tauri obliged, walking to the door. She paused, and turned back to the 2IC who was watching after her. "You know Prowl," she whispered, "I can find myself falling for you….more than easily." And with that she left, leaving a thoughtful Prowl behind her.

.

**A/n – Love! Ahhh, please review!**


	7. Talking and such 1

**A/N Please keep reviewing. It's not only for my ego, but to tell me if I'm on the right track with this thing. You all know my disclaimers. ALSO SEE AUTHORS NOTE AT BOTTOM OF CHAPTER.**

**.**

**Chapter 7 – Talking **

"Optimus! Put me DOWN!"

The furious screech echoed around the medbay as the Autobot leader arrived, saw (and felt) the state his sparkmate was in, and promptly picked her up and slung her over his shoulder. As they left the medbay, Elita punched and kicked at any part of her bondmate that she could reach, much to the giggles of some of the femmes she commanded.

"You are acting like a sparkling," grumbled the blue and red mech.

"No reason to treat me like one!" Her shriek resounded in the corridor they were in. The few mechs that they passed looked in confused awe as their leader stalked past with his angry femme over his shoulder. They arrived at Optimus's spacious private quarters, Elita now calmed down through the bond somewhat. The Autobot commander set his mate down gently just inside, and turned to lock the door.

Elita gracefully sank down on his – now their – berth in the next room, bending over to rub a hand over her forehelm. Optimus followed her silently, wrapping an arm around her frame comfortingly, rubbing her arm. The rose coloured femme leaned into the touch, sighing.

"I don't like this. At all. I know we talked about having a sparkling, but that was…"

"After the war. I know."

The femme growled, "Slaggin' Starscream. When I get my armour back I'm gonna slag him so bad that Megatron will give me a prize for it!"

"Elita, getting upset like this can't help right now."

Frustrated, she shook her helm, "But it's not only the injustice done to me, but _all_ my femmes. It's easier for you and me because we are sparkmates, but the other femmes must find a sparkmate _and_ have a sparkling. You are responsible for all Autobots. I am responsible for my femmes. I must seek retribution for this injustice."

"Shh," Optimus soothed, "You will have it, but not right now. We must focus our energies on making sure the femmes are taken care of and do not feel threatened by other mechs. And on retrieving Flare-up from Decepticon hands." Elita snuggled into his hold, wishing everything could just….go away.

"I couldn't even get more than a day with you," she sighed.

He nodded solemly, "I know, my love. I know it hurts. You need to talk to the femmes, and I need to talk to the mechs, start a new duty roster with all the new Autobots on base, sort out the Neutrals, ask Prowl to implement a plan for rescuing Flare-up, get Ratchet to prepare for the sparklings and let the humans know some parts about our situation."

Elita smiled, "All the joys of being a leader."

A dry chuckle, "Quite. And I must also organise a meeting between you and a mech named Maelstrom. But, until then, I'd rather you get your armour back, and I'd be very glad if you let me help you out my dear."

Elita's gaze turned sultry. "Oh really? What will be first in your attempts to 'help?'"

Optimus's optics darkened slightly. "Well my dear, my first act would be to kiss you senseless."

.

**Unknown – Decepticon base**

Flare-up on-lined groggily. The first thing she could feel was a cold, hard berth and cold air. After her optics booted up fully, she looked around and realised she was in a Decepticon cell. Energon bars gleamed menacingly 10 feet in front of her and the purple insignia was on one of the walls. Sitting up, she realised that the armour panels on her forearms had gone missing. With a confused expression on her face, the orange femme tried to slide them back into place. They wouldn't. Error messages flashed in her optics. '_What the?'_ she thought, and then tried to activate her plasma gun in her right forearm. More error messages appeared.

"If you are trying to activate your weapons, don't bother."

Flare-up looked up to see Starscream smirking at her from outside the cell. She growled at him and turned away.

"Ah ah ah! My _dear esteemed_ leader has a use for you, Miss Autobot, so if you would kindly follow me out of the cell without any aggression, it would be appreciated," the seeker snickered sarcastically in his screechy voice. Flare-up stood….only to sit herself down in a corner as far away from the much larger seeker as she could. A dark chuckle near her audio was all the warning she got before she felt Starscream clasp her hands behind her back with Energon cuffs and a leash was tied around her neck.

"What are you doing you **sick fragger!**" she screamed as she was jerked out of her cell. Starscream tugged on the leash roughly and snarled, "Not that it's any of your business but you'll find out anyway. You are basically my guinea-pig. The virus I injected into each femme in the Autobot army now runs through your energon lines. You can't transform, you can't access your weapons and you can't regain those few armour panels…unless you become bonded and have a sparkling…" The jet trailed off with an insane cackle as Flare-up's gold faceplate took on a stricken expression. The calm before the storm. Then the orange and red femme went nuts. She started kicking and screaming trying to twist out of her captors leash. She turned and lashed out with her fists, catching Starscream in the cheekguard. The jet grunted in annoyance and wrapped the leash around her arms and secured them to her body so she couldn't move them.

"Hmmm, much better," he said. They continued down the dark hallways of the Decepticon base, the sounds of mechs talking growing louder and louder as they travelled. Flare-up kept hissing insults at the Decepticon 2IC and Air Commander, but soon ceased as they entered through a door and into, what was obviously, the Con rec-room. There were jeers and cat-calls from Con's once they saw her.

And there, in the middle of the room on his throne, sat the mighty form of Megatron, the great slag-maker himself. Starscream pulled her through the crowd towards the throne. Here Flare-up felt a great wave of fear wash over her. She was trembling ever so slightly in nervousness.

As she and Starscream stopped at the throne, Megatron threw out his hand for silence. When all the bots had quietened, Megatron said, "Tell us your name, femme."

Flare-up bravely tilted her head to look at Megatron and spoke her name.

"Flare-up. Well, Flare-up, I trust Starscream has informed you of the situation," the Decepticon leader sneered. She dipped her head in affirmation. Inside though, Flare-up was freaking out. She was an ant in a hornet's nest, and they all wanted a piece. All that kept going around in her head was Starscream's voice, '_you can't transform, you can't access your weapons and you can't regain those few armour panels…unless you become bonded and have a sparkling…'_ They expected her to bond to a **Decepticon?** They had really gone depraved.

Megatron then smiled maliciously, "Let's see if Starscream succeeded….or if he has failed us yet again." Snickers broke out at that comment and Starscream glared his blood-red optics at anyone he caught with smiles on their faces.

Megatron then reached out a claw towards her chestplates, towards the Autobot emblem imprinted there. She tried to back up, but Starscream, being much stronger and larger, held her firm.

At contact, nothing happened.

Seeming satisfied, Megatron called out, "All Decepticons, if you would like to try your luck with this femme, line up behind Starscream."

"W- wait….what's supposed to happen?" Flare-up asked in a panicked voice. The feel of the claw on her Autobot emblem had creeped her out.

"A discharge of energy. Now shush!" hissed the Air commander.

"YOU!" she spat back. Starscream just gave her a dirty look and – with an unwilling look on his face – touched her Autobot emblem. Again, no reaction. The jet gave an audible sigh of relief. Motormaster was brave enough to try next, but no luck. Then Dragstrip, Hook, Mixmaster, Sideways and Skywarp followed, and as one mech after the other had no luck, Megatron was beginning to get doubtful.

Just as Megatron was about to berate for Starscream being such a fantastic failure (again), light emanated from Flare-up's chest to the mech who was touching her Autobot emblem. Seeing who it was, Megatron chuckled darkly.

"It figures that Barricade, the one who captured this Autobot specimen, has the right to her spark." Guffaws were heard around the room as Barricade stood in smug amusement in front of an embarrassed Flare-up.

"Slipstream!" called Megatron. The femme leader and Starscream's seeker cousin stepped forward. "Take Barricade's guest back to his quarters and secure her there until Barricade wishes to use her."

"Yes my lord," obeyed the black and purple seeker. Taking the leash from her cousin, she dragged Flare-up out of the room. Flare-up found herself stumbling through the corridors again behind another seeker. Inside, she was past the point of panic. The fact that a Decepticon was found to be compatible for her spark had made her feel sick, and she found she couldn't work her vocaliser at all because of the state of horror she was in.

They arrived at a nondescript door. The taller femme turned to her captive and said, "Look, I've got better things to do than sit here and wait for Barricade. So I'm going to let you in, and I don't want Soundwave to tell me you even thought of getting out. Stay or be de-activated, Autobot, your choice." And with that, Slipstream pushed Flare-up in and locked the door.

Wrestling with her binds, Flare-up was glad to see that the femme seeker had cut them loose. Freeing herself from the cuffs and the leash, Flare tenderly rubbed her sore wrists and arms, wincing at the sensitive chaffing of metal on metal. Looking around the room, there was nothing that particularly stood out, but Flare-up was expecting that. Just a table and chairs, a couch, a desk with a monitor, and a small energon dispenser. Cons were not meant to be sentimental and therefore not have overmuch personal affects lying around. What intrigued Flare-up though, was that Barricade's quarters were rather large for a bot that seemed to not have too high a rank. Moving in to the berth-room joining curiously, she saw a large holo of the Praxus crystal gardens on the berth side table.

She was about to touch it when a deep voice behind her said, "Don't touch that."

Flare-up spun around to see Barricade standing akimbo in the doorway. She backed away from his taller figure, the difference in their frames noticeable. She was a motorbike, while he was a car, so the top of her helm was approximately level with the top of his chestplates. Flare-up's red and orange frame was also much slimmer.

Barricade sighed. "Go ahead and insult me all you like. No-one can hear this in here. Not even Soundwave dares to try and read my mind."

Curiosity piqued, Flare-up asked timidly, "Why wouldn't he?"

The police Con snorted, "Well what's the point of a security director who's knowledge is not secure because of a telepath?"

"Oh…..that's why you have such big quarters."

"Yes."

"Primus, I'm having a civilised conversation with a Decepticon. I feel odd," the femme mused to herself. Barricade gave her a ghost of a smile before stalking over to sit on his berth. Flare-up stayed where she was, as far away from the police Con as possible. Crimson optics stared at her as she awkwardly tried to avoid his gaze.

"I'm not going to bite you."

It was Flare-up's turn to snort derisively, "Sure. You're just going to blast me with a plasma gun possibly or have your wicked way with me, force me to sparkbond and spark me up!" Her voice got slightly hysterical at the end.

Barricade scrutinised her, saying, "Sparkbonding and a sparkling, yes. I have been ordered to do so by Megatron to make sure of the full success of the virus. But it doesn't have to hurt." Flare-up's expression turned to one of disbelief. The Con SD continued, "Just because I'm a Decepticon, it doesn't mean that I don't know how to treat femmes with respect. I greatly respect the Con femmes, and I can bring myself to admire the Autobot femmes. I am not a tyrant in this respect."

Seeing Flare-up still look apprehensive, Barricade growled, "It could have been worse for you if you had reacted to a mech like Motormaster or Dirge. I happen to know that they are some of the roughest and harshest lovers – if I can call what I've seen them do 'loving' – in the Decepticon army. Be glad you got me." Barricade rested back on his elbows, still looking at his soon-to-be sparkmate. At least she was pretty, he had thought. Although it wasn't an ideal situation, Barricade let the softer side of him be glad that it was he who had the privilege of being with this femme. Her personality seemed fiery and mild at the same time, and when the correct situation granted it. He had seen the smaller red and orange femme fighting on Cybertron under her mentor, Chromia, before, and she seemed like a plucky and cheerful, yet determined, fighter. The police Con was granted with a few tentative steps toward him from the femme.

Nervous blue optics met his before she asked, "Did Megatron order…..it…..to be done right now?"

"I believe his words were, 'The sooner the better.'"

Flare-up's vents whirred nervously as she took herself as close to the berth as she dared. Rolling his optics in exasperation, Barricade grunted, "If it makes you feel any better, let's pretend that we are two Neutrals hooking up for the heck of it…..and end up sparking."

"It doesn't. But you tried," murmured the femme. She tentatively sat on the berth. Barricade didn't move, just watched her as her optics traced over his frame. Barricade heard her mutter something intelligible and grunted, "What?"

Her optics shot up to his, sapphire meeting crimson as she said, "I muttered, 'Shame you weren't an Autobot. You are good-looking for a Con.'" At that comment from the – his – femme, Barricade felt himself start to heat up. Looking curious, and feeling a bit adventurous, Flare-up leaned closer to Barricade's faceplate, her lips hovering a hands-breadth away. Hesitantly tracing a faint scar on his cheekridge, Flare-up closed the small distance between them and brushed a light kiss over his lips.

As Flare-up pulled away a little, Barricade murmured, "Once we start, I won't want to stop. You have to try and want it."

Flare-up gave no verbal confirmation, but leaned down to kiss him again.

.

**A/N: Ok I know this chapter was a little shorter, but as I've decided to keep this rated PG – ish, the actual scenes I left out (you know, interfacing and sparkbonding and such0, will be in a separate story in the M – RATED SECTION** So if you are under 16, don't read the separate story file. **Next up – Starscream and Megatron have a little (stress the little) scene together.**

**And, as always, PLEASE REVIEW!**


	8. Talking and such 2

**A/N: Ok, the next chapter after a smut scene….how will it go? Nobody knows! Except me! (And now I'm talking like G1 Wheelie…..damn it.) As always, thanks for the reviews. It's really good to see. You all know my disclaimers.**

**.**

**Of Femmes and Sparklings – More talking**

Optimus gently kissed the top of Elita's helm, sending waves of love and affection over the bond. They had done it…created a sparkling orb, which was now currently feeding off of Elita's spark energy. The rose femme snuggled closer into his chestplates, sighing in content. She had been momentarily exhausted from the energy needed to create their sparkling.

"Now that we are alone…what happened on Cybertron?" Optimus questioned quietly. He knew he would be opening, as humans said, "A can of worms," but he knew it needed to be done. Now especially, while Elita was willing to let him to take all her worries and share them in their sparks. Across their re-affirmed bond, Optimus could feel weariness, anguish and hope transmit as she snuggled closer to him and began to speak.

"You left. And then my spies picked up hints that Shockwave wanted to exterminate the femmes, it didn't matter what faction. The idea was, even if you did retrieve the All Spark before Megatron, that the Decepticons could force you to make it produce life. For without the femmes, there is no way to have life between couples. My crew were ready to pack and go almost instantly – but it ended up that we were compromised. I've not only lost Glyph and Lancer, who perished earlier in the war, but Greenlight, Cassiopeia, Vibes, Road Rage, and so many more with the devastation of Airol. It was only by pure luck that we were this many." The femme commander trembled faintly at the remembrance of watching the femme city blow up and get razed to the ground from the safety of the _Furtive Star_.

"Why lucky?" pressed Optimus.

Elita went on, "The Zodiac sisters had joined us two orns before, and their quarters had not been fully settled and were therefore closest to the ship. They got it ready while we boarded, along with the small amount of Neutral femmes. We survived by flying out of Cybertron immediately. We travelled fine as long as we stayed close to stars. The energy they emit feeds the fuel cells of the ship. In that time, we all got to know each other well."

"We were alone for a time, wondering if it was safe to return to Cybertron, when we detected the _Ark_ on our scans, And then you know the rest; we headed for Earth."

Elita smiled sadly, "If only there wasn't as much suffering for me to be here with you in your arms."

"You fit there. I love you…..so much, my strong, utterly beautiful femme, " whispered Optimus, kissing her again.

"I love you too," Elita whispered back. Then, elegantly placing a hand over her chestplates where her spark was, Elita asked, "Do you have any names for the sparkling already? It makes it so much more concrete, the situation a reality, if we do it now."

Optimus thought for a few moments, quickly going through a names database before saying "…..how about…..Eylam? Eylam Prime if it's a mech?"

Elita raised an optical ridge, "What did you get that from?"

Optimus seemed a bit uncomfortable, "Uh….it's a Hebrew name from what seems to be a guide to one of the humans deity called 'the Bible.' The name itself means eternity, and it appealed to me."

Elita laughed softly, "I like it. What if it's a femme? Hmm? Didn't think of that?"

Optimus looked affronted, "I did. I just feel it's a mech is all. But if it is a femme, I think Edana – it means 'little fire.'" Elita nodded, pleased with the choices. She rather liked the sound of Eylam, it rolled off the tip of her glossa and the name itself meant something powerful and felt….timeless.

Lying together, both commanders knew, deep in their sparks, that when the war ended – for indeed, they must have the hope for it to end – they would be content to be nothing more than devoted creators who cared for their young and spent all the time in the world with themselves and their family. It would be all too easy to give the life they led now up. But that's what made them leaders. Optimus and Elita both knew they strived for the same objective. Peace and freedom intertwined with justice. But for the moment they had now, scant as it was, they were content just to get away and revel in the comfort of each other's arms.

Optimus broke their peace. "You must need energon, you've been lying in the medbay for a few days. We also have to see Ratchet and let him know about the sparkling." Elita groaned a bit in reluctance, but still disentangled herself from Optimus's arms to get up.

"Fine. But after that I want to re-charge," the femme commander grumbled.

"As you wish my dear."

.

**Unknown – Decepticon base**

When Flare-up woke, she could feel the warm form of her sparkmate surrounding her back. The low whirring of systems were tell-tale of a mech that was still in recharge. Now awake and coherent, Flare-up could feel the ache in her chestplates that was the tell-tale of a new bond (according to Aquaris's medical lectures). Groaning she thumped her head on the berth a few times.

'_Great. This is just great. Sparkmated. On the Decepticon base with pretty much no chance of getting out. Yeah Flare-up, Welcome to Earth!'_ she thought. Yes, she had willingly been with Barricade last night, but it didn't mean she had to like her situation.

'_I'm hoping the 'just great' refers to my performance last night?'_

Flare-up jumped when she heard Barricade talk to her through their bond. She turned around in his arms that cocooned her to face him, peering into his crimson optics. "I didn't hear you on-line."

"I am able to keep my systems quiet when I wake up from recharge."

"Oh…" Her faceplates heated up in embarrassment and awkwardness. "Well, in answer to your question…..um…yeah, you were…better than excellent. I never knew that a Decepticon could be gentle such as that."

Barricade shifted, and something in his demeanour changed. "Is that honestly what you think? That _every single Decepticon_ is a cold-sparked glitch who needs to go rot in the depths of the Pit and that I would sooner beat you to a pile of scrap-heap parts than hold an ounce of respect for a femme?"

Flare-up felt the simmering of anger in the bond and quickly sent a thread of calm to him. "It's hard to know what I believe. I've seen what this faction has done to multiple cities on Cybertron, to the Autobots, to Neutrals and even to yourselves! Us Autobots only think what we need to think to protect our own selves. I think if you were in my position you'd feel the same, 'Cade." As the femme finished quietly, she could feel the quieting of the anger in his spark.

"No one has ever given me a nick-name, you know," Barricade mused thoughtfully.

"I won't call you by it if you don't like it."

"No, no. I like it. If only you say it. You are my bondmate now, after all," said the police Con. Then sitting up and releasing Flare-up from their embrace, he continued, "We have to start the day. We need to go to the medbay to check your systems – with the sparkling – and to provide the evidence to Megatron and Starscream."

Flare-up touched a hand to her chestplate and focused inward. She mentally slapped herself for not realising the armour panels on her arms had replaced themselves and that her weapons systems were now online. Concentrating, she felt her new bond, and…..there! …..off to the side was a bright ball of new, undefined energy….a sparkling orb. A little smirk crept across her face, and she quickly un-subspaced her gun and shot a blank off.

Still smirking, she turned to Barricade, "Yep, this virus works." Slipping off the berth, she waited expectantly for her sparkmate to get up.

Barricade considered her thoughtfully, "You know that you are now stuck here? And that you must wear energon cuffs as soon as you exit this room? Also note that I must appear like my usual demeanour – cold and calculating, and I must act rough towards you, berate you, and treat you like Autobot scum?"

Flare-up merely shrugged, "Sure. But not here. Here I am me. Flare-up, your, initially reluctant, sparkmate."

A long, low sound filled the room. Flare up took a moment to realise that Barricade was…..laughing. Not a malicious chuckle, but a low laugh that did convey amusement, as did their bond. "'Cade?" she questioned.

"You throw yourself into everything don't you, my little Flare?"

She shrugged again, "It's always been in my nature. Some have called it my defining personality quirk. Once I start something I plan to finish it, and try to like it while I'm at it. That's why I forgot my situation during interfacing last night. I'm also not afraid of you anymore, so I won't worry what you say to me beyond these walls." The orange and red femme then giggled, "Besides, it would have got me nowhere to try and defeat you in a fight like this."

The Con SD tilted his helm. "Do you already trust me that much?"

A gentle smile from his cute femme as his femme smiled, "Last night you made a promise. I felt the sincerity in the bond. I felt the protectiveness from your spark. So whatever happens with the rest of the world, in here, I know I'm safe." And with a cheeky little smirk and a glint in her optics, she offered her arms forward for the energon cuffs.

.

**Decepticon medbay**

Megatron tapped his foot impatiently. Minutes ago, his loyal SD had him to let him know to be in the medbay for proof of Starscream's virus taking effect. Barricade should have been here by now, standing at attention with the little Autobot femme compliant and broken from the treatment, Megatron was sure, would have been thrust upon her by Barricade.

Hook was calmly cleaning a scalpel as he waited. Internally, he hated the virus Starscream designed. Tactically brilliant, however, it brought sparklings into the war. And if it was one thing Hook hated, was that – while still a Decepticon – innocent lives had to be brought into something that should not have been placed in front of them. Hook hid this from all Decepticons except those of his gestalt. They knew and, surprisingly, understood his aversion to sparkling involved in warfare, and hid his secret.

Suddenly a screech broke the quiet of the base. It was not Starscream, for his had a slightly tinny hue to the voice, but that of the Autobot femme as it was revealed. Barricade was dragging her by her leash as he walked ahead. But at one glare, she fell quiet.

"Good Morning, my lord," saluted Barricade.

"What is the meaning of her shrieking?" snapped the Decepticon leader.

A cruel smile crept over the police Con's faceplates. "Just showing you the proof of the bond my lord. An internal communication and she is now compliant, as you can see."

"Hmm. Starscream actually successful. I might actually allow those damned twins of Soundwave's to throw a party. Hook!"

At once, the Con CMO stepped forward to take the leash from Barricade to pull his new patient over to a berth to begin her system checks. Scanning over her chestplates, he confirmed the presence of both a new sparkbond and a sparkling orb. Megatron allowed himself a little smile of satisfaction at the news, and turned his triumphant gaze toward the little femme on the berth. She glared back, but a growl from Barricade soon softened her expression into one of fear.

Turning to Barricade, Megatron clapped him on the back, "Congratulations of being the first creator of the next generation of Decepticons. You've done your faction proud, and have quite successfully cowed the femme too! Enjoy your spoils."

Barricade bowed his head, muttering, "Thank you, my lord."

And Megatron left.

"Ok, stop the act," said Hook, putting his scanner away. Barricade jerked.

"I don't know what you mean."

The medic snorted, "_Sure_," he drawled sarcastically. "Her sparkbeat didn't change at all since she walked in the room, even when you supposedly 'cowed her' and made her fearful. Good act though, it'll hold."

The sparkmates looked at each other and determined over their bond that their secret would be safe with Hook.

**Megatron's office.**

.

Megatron looked out over the sea. He had to admit, situating the base on the side of a cliff had been wise. Although he detested the mudball of a planet, he grudgingly admitted that the motion of the waves soothed him at times. He stood behind his desk, looking out the windows as he waited for his 2IC to arrive.

Megatron had been exceptionally pleased with Starscream lately. Ever since his trine had arrived and he had changed his colouring and form, he had been a lot easier to deal with. Gone was the ugly brown armour and bird-like figure, and here was the sleek crimson, white and blue form of a more regular Seeker. There had not been any focus on de-throning his leader or on any selfish plots. And, to make it that much better for Megatron, since allowing Starscream to have a lab, he had been absorbed in making the virus and thrown his efforts into his duties as 2IC. Megatron thought it was the pure relief at getting away from Egypt and finding his trine.

The office chime sounded, and Starscream sauntered in, clicking his heel turbines on the floor. Only to someone who had known Starscream for so long, as Megatron had, could tell his stance was peppered with nervousness.

"Sit, Starscream," ordered the Decepticon leader. Starscream did so, content in knowing he wasn't going to be arguing today. Arguments never started if he was sitting in the chair in front of the desk.

Also seating himself, Megatron smirked. "At ease, Starscream. For once, you have not failed me. Your virus has worked, and now Barricade's femme is gestating the first Decepticon sparkling for thousands of years."

With a small sigh, Starscream visibly relaxed, and shot a self-satisfied smirk at his leader. He was startled though, when Megatron un-subspaced a container of Vosnian high-grade and two cubes.

"My lord….?" The jet questioned as the tyrant filled both cubes.

"You deserve a reward. After years of you not doing anything right, you have reminded me why I still keep you around and why I made you my second. To future plots against the Autobots and to the Decepticons," he said, and tipped his high-grade towards Starscream before proceeding to empty the cube of the fluid.

Starscream let a full smile cross his handsome features as he took his own cube. Vosnian high-grade was the best blend in Cybertron, made for fliers who needed better, more efficient energon. Recognising the taste of the rare treat, Starscream thought happily, '_Warp and TC are going to be sooo jealous.'_ Also tipping his cube towards Megatron, Starscream drank.

**A/n: I hate movie Starscream…..he is so ugly. I 3 G1 SS, he's gorgeous. But yeah, this follows off Deleted Scenes Chap 1. OVER 16's ONLY if you want to read the companion piece to this. I know that in the original cartoon the Cons had their base underwater, but to suit my purposes, I've put it near water, not underneath it. **


	9. Meetings

**A/n: Meetings in this capter, cos something like this isn't gonna be gone in a day. You all know my disclaimers. Next chapter should be more interesting, this one is just as dry as chapter 1. P.s: is everyone else getting stupid ads every single time they go to a new chapter or story ect? It's really pissing me off. I want to read, not keep clicking the 'skip ad' button.**

**.**

**Of femmes and sparkling chapter 9 – Meetings**

Elita stood in front of all the Autobot femmes with a serious expression on her faceplates. They were in a conference room near the femmes wing, where they had gone to discuss the virus and what they were going to do. Before the meeting, Elita had been in the medbay, where Ratchet confirmed her sparkling was gestating normally so far and would be ready to split into its own protoform in a month and a half (3 orns on Cybertron – usual for sparkling gestation), meaning the sparkling would be on-line by the beginning of Feburary. The medic had also confirmed Elita's weapons systems coming on-line, which had thrilled the femme commander to no end.

But the moment right now was business. Until each of her femmes had produced a sparkling orb, they were all in danger….especially Flare-up.

The rose femme began to speak. "Femmes, I know that we are all angered at the audacity of Starscream's virus. We know what we cannot do. Transform, use weapons that are integrated with our systems and have all our armour. But what we _can_ do is get past this. Yes, we will have to bond, and yes, we all will have a sparkling. But we will not let the Decepticon's think that they can get us down." A small cheer went up from the femmes. Elita's spark lifted and she continued. "We know the gravity of the situation. And there is great news. Whoever you discharge energy to does not **have **to be your bondmate. You are free to love any mech you wish, as long as you create your sparkling."

"But what about Tauri? She was forced to!" Delira cried out. Tauri rolled her optics and shook her head.

Elita's optics narrowed minutely as she answered, "Tauri bravely made the choice to save Prowl, who is, as you all now know, 2IC and lead tactician. We would be in dire straits without him. Now before Aquaris hands you all datapads she has prepared for us, I must ask an awkward question…..How many of you have not interfaced before – how many are still virginal?"

There was dead silence. And then, a black hand pushed itself into the air. And then another. Then two more hands rose, one silver, the other champagne coloured. Scorpia, Quicksilver, Tauri and Esperanza all stood, not looking at any of their comrades or commander, as their hands high in the air.

Elita sighed. She had been too idealistic in hoping that each femme had experienced it at least once, as to make for better compatibility with a mech. But that was fate. "Each of you please stay behind after this meeting. Do we have any questions?"

"Are we going to get revenge?" This came from Sagittari, whose violet optics had flared at the thought. Chatter started up amongst the femmes, some wanting the chance for vengeance, and some not.

"While it is not the Autobot way," Elita called out above the noise, "If we can do something subtle, then I'm sure we can make it work." She let a chuckle out, "Oh yes, we will let Starscream know how….displeased we are with him."

"Oh! I got an idea!"

Everyone turned to Picyries, who had evidently gotten a brainwave by her expression. She excitedly began to explain, "Why don't we give the virus back to Starscream? Then he can be put through what we are going to!"

"But Picyries, Starscream's not a femme," said Moonracer.

Catching on to her younger sisters idea, the aqua femme medic smirked, "But we can make him one….."

Laughter echoed around the room at the thought of the Decepticon air commander as a femme, turned into that as a means of their revenge. The image of the jet on-lining to find a curvier chassis and a need to have a sparkling before he/she could even think of using his/her patented null rays.

"Can this be possible?" inquired Elita, amused by the prospect.

Aquaris, being one of the most intelligent – if not the most – femmes, nodded. "Yes. The virus encoding can be taken care of by Picyries, but I know of a series of virus codes and inventions that make it possible to make a mech a femme. If I recall correctly, there's an old datapad that explains before the Golden Age, when femmes were even more rare, some mechs were turned into femmes to further our race. If you'd agree, I can help to achieve this."

A smile broke out on the rose commander's faceplates, "Then by all means, do it. Retaliation is more than Starscream deserves. Who will you need, Aquaris?"

The femme medic considered the femmes around her and said, "Picyries, definitely. And Virgo, as you are such an accomplished technician, it would be appreciated. And maybe I'll ask Wheeljack in the future. But that's it."

Elita agreed and said, "Femmes, that is all. Please do not be over-concerned for Flare-up. I have briefly spoken to Prowl who has assured me _we will_ get her back when he completes the planning. But remember this before you go. If a mech tries to force himself on you, do not hesitate to say no and do all you can to get away. You are my femmes, and I want you to feel protected within your base. You have a choice who you love, and who you want to create a sparkling with. Come and see myself or Chromia if you have any concerns. Could the four femmes who put up their hand please come forward?"

As the femmes filtered out, Elita felt relieved. She had expected a much more aggressive meeting than that.

Finally, the last four femmes stood before her. Looking imploringly into their optics she said, "As femmes who have never interfaced before, this is the biggest commitment for you. It goes double for all of you to come to me if you need me, or feel uncertain of what you are doing. It would be wise to let any prospective partners know about your being a virgin. Everyone's first time should be gentle and instructive, not full of fear and pain." Straightening, Elita softened the look on her faceplates. "I wish that you would not have to go through this."

"Thanks Elita. We appreciate it," said Esperanza. Elita smiled at the shorter femme and, seeing there were no questions, mentioned for them to leave.

The femme commander let her vents sigh. That was easy.

.

**Another Conference room….**

"THOSE SLAGGIN' CONS!"

"SON OF A GLITCH STARSCREAM!'

"WHAT IF WE DON'T GET A FEMME? I WANT ONE!"

"SHUT UP, NOT HELPING!"

"CRUSH THE CON'S!"

"REVENGE!"

In hindsight, Optimus really wished he hadn't been so blunt when he had explained what the cause of the femme's problems had been. Now, there was this outcry. It was what he had been expecting, but it didn't make hearing Slingshot's comment about wanting a femme any easier to hear. This virus could have the result of mechs fighting over a femme.

Sighing, Optimus had no choice but to shout.

"_**SILENCE!"**_

The room then became silent at his commanding roar. Venting harshly in annoyance, Optimus spoke firmly.

"Listen to me, all of you. Although most of you have just arrived here, allow me to make myself clear here. There will be no _claiming_ of the femmes. They will have a right to choose. You will not make unwanted advances towards any femme. If you do, any harm they do to you may be justified. You will not trick them into your berth, no matter how tempting it may be. If I hear of any misconduct towards any, and I mean _any_ of the femmes, you will be punished. Understood?" A resounding 'yes sir' rang throughout the room.

"We are going to be true to our morals and help the femmes through this difficult time. If one of them shows an interest in you, and if you are so inclined to like her, then you may pursue the _normal _ways of dating. Now, any questions?" Optimus asked.

"Think you've covered it all Boss Bot," smirked Jazz. At the nods throughout the room, Optimus turned and left. He had really had enough of this slaggin virus. Besides, night was falling, and he really, really, wanted to recharge. As he left the room, he saw Elita standing near the entrance.

Smiling gently at her sparkmate and clasping his hand to her chest, Elita spoke through the bond. '_How'd they take it?'_

'_Like I thought they would. Angry and vengeful, yet slightly jubilant at the thought of femmes ready for interfacing. And the femmes?'_

The smile turned to a smirk and Optimus caught a thread of devious intent through their bond. '_We actually plotted our vengeance on the Con Air Commander. It was a good morale booster for us. Our meeting went shorter and better than I thought.'_

'_Coming dear?'_ asked Optimus, making as if to move away. She shook her head.

'_No. I want to see the young one. Maelstrom, the one you told me about. I think I had better do it now, rather than later. There is just so much to do…..and so little time.'_

'_I understand. I'll see you later dear.'_

Turning to leave, Optimus parted from his sparkmate to rest.

The Autobots began to shuffle out of the room not long after. Some of the mechs offered her their congratulations (Ironhide, Prowl and Jazz) for sparking, while others just gave her polite salutes and nods. Bumblebee even came up to Elita – whom he had seen as a surrogate femme creator – and asked excitedly if he could sparkling sit if he had the chance. Elita thanked him and told him she'd let him know. As Bee left, she saw a ivory mech with orange tattoo's leave the room. She stepped forward in front of him. He saluted sharply, recognising the femme commander from the introduction.

"At ease, Maelstrom. I came to talk to you. Optimus told me it might be beneficial for the both of us if I did."

The young warrior nodded, "I'd like that ma'am."

"It's Elita in private Maelstrom. Is there anyone else still in the room?"

The younger mech shook his head, "No. I was the last….it's kinda hard to believe what's happening and all."

"I understand. Let's go in and sit," the femme mentioned, and they entered the large conference room and sat in the nearest seats. Smiling to make the younger bot feel more at ease, the femme asked kindly, "What would you like to know about your mother?"

"Well…..everything! She told me about her adventures as an Autobot, but she didn't tell me what she did before the war or where she lived or anything like that. When she spoke to me, it was more of a 'don't give up hope, you will get out of here one day and fight against injustice against the Con's' sort of thing. She taught me how to read and write, helped to build my processor and all. She taught me about emotions. Common sense things. But she never told me much of her past…could you maybe….fill in the gaps?" the ivory Zonda implored.

Elita, still kindly in her gaze, acquiesced. "Very well. She was created via the All Spark, not of a bonded couple, and was sent to a sparkling centre in Iacon where she was then adopted by a scientist who wanted a sparkling, but did not have a sparkmate. His name was Turbine. He sent her to all the best academy's and she became a great scientist in her own right and was very successful in designing stronger forms for Cybertronians. She and her adopted creator had a good relationship, if a little distant because of the amount of work they did. She worked at the same lab as Perceptor, though he was only a young apprentice then, and they somehow became friends. She was his mentor and teacher as well. Turbine and Perceptor were the only two bots who were the closest to her." Here, the femme commander paused and her smile dropped.

"Then the Golden Age ended. She is older than me, but not by too much. Anyway, war began spreading over Cybertron. She decided to use her scientific ability to help the Autobots and came to my recruitment centre. I had her apart of my team on the condition that she learn how to defend herself. And she became reasonably good at shooting and hand-to-hand combat. As far as I know, she never fell in love, nor stopped being passionate for the Autobot cause. She was serious, but could take a joke, and we a very eloquent speaker – as I'm sure you know." Maelstrom nodded.

"Yeah…..is that all you know of her…?" he asked.

"Yes. Though Lancer had a complicated job and manner, she was a very simple and gentle person at the spark. I am proud of her, of her courage – that I have heard from Optimus – and bravery in the face of adversity, and that she seems to have a worthwhile successor," said Elita. Maelstrom lifted his Hound shaped helm to look her directly in optic.

"Even with the knowledge of who my creator is? That my spark is half tainted with a tyrants? Even though I have to continually keep the bond closed, ever since I was a sparkling?" murmured the young warrior. Gently placing a slim hand on his ivory shoulder, Elita said, "Yes. It is not the parentage that defines a Cybertronian, but what they do. And you have been, as much as I can sense, honest with the Autobots."

Maelstrom smiled. "Thanks Elita. You and Optimus are…..really cool." Elita laughed at the vernacular the orange tattooed mech had already seemed to pick up from Earth. The femme commander knew that Ariea and Wildside had already as well.

"Thank you Maelstrom. Now I believe that it is now night here on Earth, and it is time to reacharge. Recharge well, and if you need anything from myself or Optimus, don't hesitate." Elita made a sound of amusement, "I feel like I've been saying that repeatedly in the past few hours."

"It just prove your leadership I think, that you and Optimus are so willing to know your soldiers."

"I like to think it's part of the job description of being a commander," the femme deadpanned, walking out of the door after Maelstrom and locking it behind her. Waving to the young mech, the rose femme turned to walk away to her quarters where comfort waited for her in the form of a berth and her sparkmates warm arms.

.

**A/n: jeez that was a filler and a half. Don't worry, better stuff next chapter**.


	10. Aggression

**A/N: Next morning after the meeting. I'm using Slingshot as my fall boy with the femmes, unless you guys can recommend another character I can use to bag on. NOTE! When I say Roulette shaped, go on 2 tfwiki and look up Roulette. See her helm shape, but for Capricornia, the colour is a dark, royal purple with twisted horns. Also important, I've changed Quickslinger's name to Quicksilver. It sounds better and more like her quiet, yet speedy personality. Anywho, let's get on with the show! **

**.**

**Of Femmes and Sparklings chapter 10 – Aggression**

It was early in the morning in the training room. The room was not too-brightly lit and was the place of a sole occupant. She had lost 2 large strips of armour on her back, vertically from her shoulders to her hips, and the use of her weapons: blasters, guns, missile launchers and many more, but not that of her great, golden sword, that was now casually held in her right hand as she waited for the simulator to start.

She was furious. She was as angry as the pit itself with the virus within her. She had gone crazy in her room trying to keep still, the urge to hunt down Starscream and personally assist his passage to the Pit at its peak within her. Knowing she wasn't any good like this, she had and asked Elita if she could use the training room to vent her frustration. Granted, she hadn't been thrilled to be pulled out of re-charge by her sub-ordinate, but had understood her need and had then supplied the code.

Capricornia had to admit, for there being a 7-bot army here on Earth, they had set up an impressive base with all the features any warrior, civilian or scientist could ever need.

The small, twisted twin sensor horns on her helm above her audios were pointed straight up in anticipation, instead of resting pointed at a 45 degree angle back like they usually were on her Roulette-shaped helm. The grip on the sword was no longer casual as noises of hologram machinery kicked into gear and the first of the drones appeared.

Gracefully thrusting forward, Capricornia stabbed her sword through the abdomen before whirling it around the head in a blur of gold. The next two she could sense behind her, so she span and slashed through their chests. One disappeared, and one didn't, leaving the purple weapons specialist to slam the sword through a leg while jumping to kick two feet into a drone that had just appeared behind her. Tugging her sword out of the drone, she cut off the pedes of the one that was on the ground from the force of her kick.

Hearing the faint whistle of wind of a bullet from the side, she ducked and rolled, before popping up behind another drone and beheading it from behind. The energon was now flowing through her lines at a rapid pace as her reflexes became sharper and systems warmer at her exertions. A small snarl was on her face as she was attacked by three sword bearing drones at once. She blocked, parried, ducked and weaved an intricate dance between her golden sword and that of the dull drones.

"C'mon, give me a challenge!'" she mocked, leaping to the side of the left one and slashing its sword arm off. In retaliation, the other two drones picked up the ferocity of their attack. Smirking, Capricornia merely sprang into the air to slam her sword through the bodies of the drones. As she looked up to face her next adversary, the system shut down.

In annoyance, the weapons specialist whipped around to the control panel, where a white mech with red decals stood impassively, watching her as she strode towards him.

"Would you mind explaining why you interrupted?' asked Capricornia tersely. The mech shrugged. "I thought you would like an actual adversary, instead of these insipid drones." Pulling out a long, black sword from his back holster, he gestured if she would agree. The purple femme tilted her head to the side, sizing him up.

"Yes. What is your designation?"

A small smirk graced his handsome features. "My name is Drift. And yours?"

"Capricornia."

"Ah, the second oldest sister of the Zodiac. It is my pleasure to fight you," Drift said with a bow. Also smirking, Capricornia raised her gold sword to his black one. As he straightened, they looked into each other's azure optics, trying to suss each other out and intimidate. Drift was the first to move, swiping his sword against hers, trying to batt it out of her hand using brute strength.

"Ha! An amateur move, Drift, surely you can do better," the femme laughed, rolling her wrist with the movement before raising it to swipe across his chestplates.

"Wanted to test the strength of your wrist. Very good." He blocked her shot, and their swords began exchanging blow for blow. The sound of clangs filled the room as their swords met again and again in their twisting, dodging, ferocious dance that was swordplay. As Capricornia jumped and blocked again from Drift's attack, her left pede came down the wrong way and she slipped to the floor. She hastily brought her sword up to defend what (if in real battle) would have been the killing blow. Their swords were crossed and the femme grunted, trying to push up as he leaned over her to look her in the optic.

"Yield," Drift ground out. Inwardedly, he was _very_ impressed. He had never met a femme before who had that amount of skill and natural ability when wielding a blade. Even when he had been a Decepticon, no femmes ever really practised this art. And in truth, he didn't want her to yield. It had been so refreshing to fight like this – to _dance –_ after the pressures of the past few days.

Capricornia's growl fulfilled his wish. "Never." And with that, she rolled her body up with her sword, intending to off-balance him. However, as their chestplates touched, a bolt of true energy shot between them, causing them both to drop their swords, clattering to the ground. Drift heaved himself to the side, breaking the energy.

"H-holy Primus that was intense," he murmured, finials on his head still vibrating with energy.

Capricornia was silent, staring at the pristine white ceiling – that was sure to eventually receive blast marks from training and dents – from where she had flopped onto the ground from her leaning crouch. She vented heavily, trying to get the shock out of her system. '_Compatibility with the first mech I meet after the meetings. What are the chances?'_

"Hey, you ok?" came Drift's questioning, yet slightly worried voice.

"Yes. Thank you."

"So…would you like to go out on a date?"

Capricornia stared incredulously at him, seeing his little smirk, and thought he was joking. Her expression became icy and she spat, "How about no?" and turned to stalk away. Drift went after her and caught her hand in his.

"I'm sorry if it seemed I was a little cavalier in my attitude. I'm not joking," he said, willing her to agree.

"Hm…..why? I've only just met you."

Drift smiled again, "You interest me. I have never met a femme with that much sword ability. You are equal to me in ability. If you hadn't of fallen, I have no doubt we would have both been sparring until we could not go on. And…" the white and red mech paused here, meeting the purple femmes optics and went on, "I'd like to help you. If we get to know each other better and end up going beyond friendship, then it's one victory from the Decepticons. When you get all of your systems back, I'm sure you are just _itching_ to get vengeance."

Capricornia scrutinised the mech in front of her as she had done before their sparring session. This time though, she decided to be a little more in-depth. He was slightly taller than she was, with triangular pointed finials. His helm was white, as was most of his body, save for a red decal on his sides. He had a strong chinplate and his nasal ridge was covered by a plate extending below his helm from a gold center point. Autobot emblems displayed proudly on his shoulders. His windshield covered most of his chest, and in his doors – acting like sword sheaths – lay two short swords. His waist was slim, black around with a white codpiece. His thighs were black also, and looked strong. His calves were white, and his pedes were black. Underneath his helm, his azure optics shone sincerely, indicating nothing but honesty. He was handsome and skilled. And, in truth, Capricornia had been thrilled with the fight.

"Ok."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." Capricornia smirked back at him. "If you are sure. I don't even know if you can handle me."

Drift chuckled, "I'm sure we'll find out then. How about we meet for energon tonight? I've seen the draft roster and I have patrol for about three hours until Earth time 5pm."

"That sounds good. See you then…..Drift." Now alone after the mech's exit, Capricornia could only wonder if this could turn out to be good for her. After all, love on a deadline? Was it even possible? Setting up the drones again, she could feel the slightest bit of frustration and helplessness arising again. It was time to pummel some drones again.

Raising her Spark Blade once more, she struck.

.

**Another Conference room**

"I'm glad that you were able to come to this meeting on such short notice Captian Lennox."

"No problem Optimus. You gotta admit though, this virus thing you told us about? Yeah, some of the head honcho's at NEST are not gonna be happy. They are tolerating your race here as is. If they find out about pro-creation – which scares me how similar it is to humans – they are gonna be even worse. I'll do my best to smooth it over though," said Lennox.

Nodding, Optimus replied, "Yes, I understand. But Lennox, I must ask that the humans, save for you, Epps, Sam and Mikaela see us or work with us until everything is sorted. This will take months. We will not call you to fight with us often, but if you ever need us, do not hesitate. That is our treaty after all."

"Yeah. Let's just hope the SecDef will sway their opinions."

.

**Ironhide and Chromia's quarters.**

The sparkmates were in their berth, just laying together peacefully, what they hadn't been for a long time. It had felt like eternity for the both of them. After being apart for many years, with no physical contact, the night before, after the meetings, they had spent their time re-discovering each other physically through a bout of extensive, sweet interface before dropping into blissful recharge. However, they had not sparkmerged.

"I don't know if I told you this last night, but I like the black on you. I thought you looked good red, but this is….._sexier_," said Chromia, gently stroking his cheek. Ironhide chuckled back. It felt so right just to be with her again, and longed to fight by her side. She would always have his back. Always.

"You are the only thing in this universe that I can perceive to be beautiful. Scenery may be pretty and stars awe-inspiring, but it's nothing to you," he murmured back. Giggling, Chromia teased, "Aw Hide, you went to the effort of researching a quote!" Growling slightly, Ironhide released Chromia from his arms.

"Aw baby, don't be like that. You know I'm teasing," the blue femme said.

"I know. It's something else I'm frustrated about."

Chromia's gaze shifted to concerned. "Talk to me baby…..c'mon, I want to practise making a sparkling," she said with a sly wink.

Turning his head sharply away from her he mumbled something the Hummer couldn't hear. "What was that?" Seeing him sigh she waited for his response. "That's just it," the black mech said.

"What do you mean that's just it?" demanded Chromia sharply. "What, you don't want one? Tough luck honey! When we merge, I'm probably gonna have to pop one out anyway!" Sensing her ire aflame in the bond, Ironhide turned back to her placated her with his hands, rubbing her shoulders. The normally content trigger-happy bot looked utterly morose.

"That's not it Mia."

"Then what is? Spit it out before….." she spat, before realising her favourite blaster was inaccessible because of the virus.

"Shh, I'll explain, just…..don't get too upset." Nodding and drawing closer to the warm from of her mech, she looked trustingly up into his optics.

"I don't think I'll be a good creator," Ironhide blurted. Before Chromia could interrupt, he went on. "Listen, Mia. I'm a cannon-toting trigger happy mech who would probably accidentally hurt his own sparkling with his weapons. I'm too dangerous. Not to mention I have no idea how to care for a sparkling, to play with one, to comfort one. Might as well tell someone to design the worst creator of the year award for me," he snorted.

"**How dare you,**" Chromia hissed. She smacked his arm and said, "How dare you do this to yourself. You think I don't have doubts about my parenting skills, Hide, if I have any at all! We going to learn. We are going to learn how gentle to be, how to play, how to comfort….and most of all be a family." Ironhide was touched by the passion behind her words and she went on, a few stubborn tears welling up in her optics. "Hide, this fraggin war has been going on for too long and with too much pain. I want some more happiness in our lives. I've wanted a family, you know that. Now we have the chance to have one, let's take it and frag the Cons all the way to Vector Sigma!"

"Aw, Mia, you have the ability to make me inspired and aroused at the same time," he smiled. Chromia laughed before pressing him onto his back and straddling his hips.

"So, what do you say we practise to make a sparkling?" the blue femme asked slyly, walking her fingers up the black, strong chest to trace his lips.

A gleam of heat was in his eyes as he replied, "I say, we get started right now."

.

**A/n; yeah, I know the meeting scene between Lennox and OP is lame, but I needed to explain about the large lack of humans in this fic. They will be there, just not much. ** There will be a scene following Ironhides last comment in the deleted scenes story (side story to this fic. Has all the naughty bits ect).** It should be up a few days after this. Next 2 chapters are going to be on the same day as now. And finally, to all my faithful reviewers, MERRY XMAS!**


	11. Whats the situation PART 1

**oniA/N Ok, get ready for a long chapter! I might break it up into a few parts, just for easier reading. You all know my disclaimers. **

**.**

**Chapter 11 – What's the situation – Part 1**

Ratchet was tired. Last night, he and Moonracer had a loooong talk.

**TFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFT**

_Flashback_

Ratchet was exhausted after the drama of the past few days and really wanted some recharge after the meeting. He had to admit, Optimus had done a spectacular job of explaining the situation of all the mechs. And now, palming open the door to his quarters adjacent to the medbay, he could finally rest. However, the CMO was stopped in his tracks by a pale-mint coloured femme resting on his couch.

"Hey Ratchet," greeted Moonracer calmly, getting up to embrace him.

"Moonracer! What…..how did you-?"

"Get in?" she grinned, optics sparkling with mischief. "I am the femme TIC, and have a few override codes now you know."

Ratchet sighed, "You know, before you left the medbay, you could have just asked."

"And spoiled the fun of me seeing the look on your face?" the femme teased, easing herself back onto the couch and patting the space beside her. The look of hope and love she sent his way melted Ratchet's tired and exasperated expression and he proceeded to sit next to her. Leaning forward, Moonracer gently caressed his face before asking, "You reacted to me…..didn't you?"

"To the point tonight? Very well…..Yes. Are you disappointed I didn't talk to you sooner about this?" asked Ratchet. Moonracer tilted her head before shaking it in a negative.

"I know you're busy. You're practically run off your feet every day, and this virus isn't helping anything. No, don't worry. I'm not mad at you," she said.

"You should be. I know you've wanted to bond for a long time, and I've always resisted. And…..._this_…...is exactly why. I'll hardly see you unless you are in the medbay all day, I'll come back to recharge at late hours and wake early in the mornings. I fear I cannot be with you as a bondmate, like I am for you as a lover," Ratchet explained. Seeing Moonracers skeptical look, Ratchet said, "Even as lovers on Cybertron, we never got to have extended time to ourselves.

"But here we are, still together, and quite strong if I do say so. Besides, it's not like I can go jump into another's berth to get rid of the virus," reasoned the sharpshooter. Ratchet sighed to himself. This reasoning ability was both a blessing and a curse. Moonracer was not one of the 'verbal-screaming-argument-matches' femmes like Chromia, or one of the completely stubborn ones, like Elita. She preferred to stay calm during arguments, reasoning everything out quietly, yet sweetly, and somehow managing to guilt trip Ratchet on the way. She never wavered from her point of view, and if ever she did scream, it was in happiness.

"Ratch…why are you denying something that could be potentially beneficial for the both of us? Why have you put forward such a flimsy reason not to bond?"

Ratchet didn't look her directly in the optics. He was too proud…too stubborn. He did not want to disclose his insecurities to her. Although they had tackled them together before, the time apart had allowed his old doubts to creep into his processor. Knowing she would not be appeased until he answered, the medic mumbled, "Doubts…"

Ratchet could feel the exasperated vent from his lover as she let a sound of irritation escape her. "Again, Ratch? You know how I feel about you sweetspark," pleaded Moonracer.

'_Primus not again!'_ Moonracer thought, grasping the chartreuse faceplates to force him to look her in the optic. '_How much work has been unravelled over the course of time apart.'_

"I know. And I want to bond as much as you do! But I must ask," Ratchet said, laying his hand over one of hers resting on his face, "Are you sure. You know me – and I'm not sure how you have managed to love me – I'm grumpy, I'm proud, after a patient dies on my table, I love to get wasted on high-grade, I have a habit of knocking mechs out with a wrench." Here Moonracer giggled, prompting Ratchet to send a light scowl her way, and continued, "I get angry easily, I yell and I'm not good enough for you – despite my title and position of CMO. And you…..are so beautiful, your face….body, so calm and rational. You are younger than me, Moonracer. I'm older and set in my ways. And I think I may love you too much that I may just want to keep you here in this room forever. Be sure, when you say yes. I don't think my spark could take it if we ended up ultimately unhappy."

Moonracer did not reply immediately, just calmly, reassuringly, looking into his optics – into him. Then she said slowly, carefully, "Ok. Now you listen to me. I have heard this before. And I will say what I said to you last time. I. Love. **You.** Not the mech you think you need to be for me, but you, Ratchet the Hatchet, the grumpy wrench-throwing and sometimes party animal CMO. There's no other bot for me but you."

She then abruptly got up and said, "I wish I could stay here tonight, but I can't. You aren't ready for that yet. And when you are….let me know." Pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, Moonracer left with a "Goodnight Ratchet. Love you," leaving Ratchet to stumble into his berth and into a restless recharge.

**End Flashback**

**Tftftftftftfttftft**

And now Ratchet was really hoping for a nice, easy day where he could fully go over all the medical equipment amassed for him in a medical storage bay, brought from Cybertron for his use. For once Ratchet wished for the medbay to be empty of bots for one full day. However, Ratchet was not to get his wish. For almost as soon as he had entered the medbay, Ironhide peeked around the edge of the doorway.

"Hey Ratchet, you ready to be a medic yet?" sniggered the weapons specialist, noting Ratchet's slightly slumped posture.

"Slag off, you don't look injured," retorted Ratchet.

Ironhide shook his head, "No can do." Then stepping around the doors and into the medbay revealed a grinning Chromia, who looked like she…..had…._oh slag!_

"No. Nononono! You….got rid of the virus," groaned Ratchet in exasperation (did he mention he was not a morning bot?). "We have a mini trigger happy sparkling on the way. Perfect. Thank you Ironhide and Chromia, for starting off my day so _spectacularly _for me." His remark caused Chromia to laugh.

"Not only that Ratchet, but this!" grinned the femme, quickly raising her favourite gun and shooting off a round into a bucket of scrap metal.

"Joy," grunted the medic, before brusquely gesturing toward a general berth. Jumping up Chromia couldn't wipe the grin off her faceplates, just as Ironhide couldn't help feel internally smug over their achievement. With Chromia's assurance, he was ready to tackle this any way he could. He watched over his sparkmate protectively, as Ratchet retrieved a specially designed spark scanner from a nearby shelf.

As he turned to scan, Ratchet mentioned, "With this virus, have no fear that the spark will extinguish. It seems that Starscream determined them all to live through until they are put into their protoform." The scanner beeped. Looking down, Ratchet said, "Well, it is certain – you have created a sparkling. Now Chromia, come in for a check-up every week. I have installed a new energon dispenser in the rec-room especially for the femmes. It has a special nutrient energon especially for sparked femmes. Drink that at least once a day. Anything else?"

"Jeez Ratch, you would've thought someone slipped some bad oil in your morning energon with the way yur talkin'" said Ironhide, then hastily ducked as Ratchet chucked a wrench at his helm.

Distracting Ratchet from his ire at the weapons specialist, Chromia asked, "Yeah. When can we design the protoform?"

"Wheeljack's doing them, everyone knows he's the best. He said to go see him as soon as I give you back you the sparklet's readings next week. It's not strong enough to determine gender yet. Now…._anything else?"_ ground out the medic.

"Nope, that's about it! Oh, and make sure you bond with Moonie soon, or else you'll have dented the helms of the whole base!" called out Chromia, dragging Ironhide out with her as a wrench hit the wall where her head had been. The CMO's irritated yell followed them out into the hallway.

"SLAG OFF!"

.

**Esperanza**

The champagne coloured femme was walking to the rec-room for her ration of morning energon when a body impacted against hers and sent them both tumbling to the ground. Bright, sunny yellow filled her vision, and realised the familiar panelling of her mechfriend, Bumblebee.

"Are you ok?" were the first words blurted out the camaro's mouth.

"Yeah, fine Bee. There are easier ways to say hi you know," teased the smaller bot. Bumblebee chuckled and got up, holding out a hand to her. Taking it to stand also, Esperanza realised that when they had fallen to the floor, their chests had connected. And nothing had happened.

"Hey….you didn't react to me…" the femme wondered aloud. Bumblebee noticed the look of consternation on her face and shrugged.

"So? Optimus said that Ratchet found out that a femme could go to whoever she liked for a bondmate regardless of compatibility," Bee pointed out. Seeing the smaller femmes faceplates still look troubled, Bee leaned down to place a quick peck on her nose.

.:C'mon, let's go get some energon. I wouldn't worry about it. It just means we might have to push our relationship at a faster rate, but with the virus thingy, I think we can work through it:. Came Bee's chipper voice through a private comm. link. Linking his hand with hers, he noticed she didn't agree with him.

Still over the private line, he said cautiosly, .:That is…..you still want to be with me…Right?:.

.:Yeah, I do. It's just something stupid. Don't worry about it Bee:.

.:Esper.:. said Bee, and Esperanza, knowing through his tone, he wouldn't let up until he soothed her and her problem.

.:It's just….we're so young! I'm the youngest femme in the Autobot army, and you are the youngest mech. I think going fast in our relationship will put us in over our heads. I really hate the situation the femmes have been forced into:. she explained, prompting Bumblebee to put an comforting arm around her shoulders.

.:Yeah, it sucks. I think we all think it sucks. But don't worry, we'll get the D-cons back:. said Bumblebee. Esperanza giggled and she said out loud, "D-cons? Who made that one up?"

"Oh, just my human friend Sam. Now c'mon, I want some energon. You wouldn't want your mech to be hungry now?" winked Bee. Arm in arm, the young couple continued their trek down to the rec room.

In the rec room, there were quite a few bots already receiving their morning energon, but only a few femmes. Among those were the command femmes (Elita, Chromia and Moonracer) at one table, while Tauri, Wildside and Capricornia were at another. Obviously, a majority of the femmes wanted to wait until a later time when the room was not so full of mechs and therefore less chance of being hit on. The femmes that were there were not approached, due to their reputations that had circulated over the past few days – though not Tauri as such. It was more the fact she was now bonded to Prowl.

As the yellow mech and champagne femme retrieved their morning energon and sat down at their own table, the rec room doors swished open again and a silver femme with purple swirl markings on her chassis came in alone.

Lyrica waved to both femme tables and Esperanza, before retrieving her own cube and sat down at a table in the back, waiting for her twin. That was her morning mistake. Lyrica's figure was pretty, and in being separate from the other femmes and alone, she was the perfect target for mechs who were looking for an easy 'face.

Sipping her energon, Lyrica's only thoughts were of formulating some new lyrics for Muse's new song. Her sisters instructions were, '_Hard, vengeful and full of promise. That's what I feel right now.'_ It had not occurred to the songstress that a mech would single her out.

"Hey lil' cutie, what's a pretty femme like you doing here by yourself?"

Lyrica looked up into the friendly-looking faceplates of the white and red flier and smiled politely. "Just waiting for my sister, thank you."

Slingshot grinned at her, "So you wouldn't mind a little bit of company would ya?" Without waiting for an answer, the larger bot slid himself into a seat next to the songstress, scooting the chair over a little too close for Lyrica's comfort. Slingshot leaned on the table, blocking Lyrica's view of most of the rec room.

"So what's yer name?" asked Slingshot arrogantly.

"Lyrica," the silver femme said shortly. Over her twin bond Lyrica rapidly shot off a message to her twin. '_Muse, come to the rec-room please. I got a total tool on my hands here, just like Elita said there might be, quick! You're better at self-defence than me.'_ A pulse of confirmation and a thread of anger was sent her way from Muse. A touch on her arm brought Lyrica back to the situation at present.

"Slingshot. Y'know, you are a very pretty femme. I could help you out with this virus problem of yours, you know. After who would be better than a flier such as me, brave, fast, and strong?" Inwardedly, Lyrica recoiled from the mech. He had a lusty look in his optics and his tone was aimed for seduction – which was epically failing in Lyrica's opinion.

"Um…..excuse me, I have to find my sister," Lyrica said politely, making as if to get up, cursing to herself that she picked a table far away from the other femmes.

"Hey, stay here and talk to me awhile cutie, I've got to tell you that time I took on five seekers by myself," leered Slingshot, grabbing her arm as she attempted to flee from the conversation. The femmes optics narrowed.

"Let. Me. Go," Lyrica said lowly. She knew she was far too kind for her own good, she could not bear to raise a hand to another Autobot, even a pervy one like this flier.

From where she was conversing with her scout, Esperanza quickly checked up on Lyrica, and saw the flier, grasping her arm tightly as to keep her near him. Looking to her commander, Esperanza gestured for Elita's attention. While that was happening, Slingshot had rested his other hand on the curve of her hip, saying, "Why would I want to do that? You should be honoured that such a powerful flier like myself has taken an interest in you. I bet you've never been with a mech like me." Lyrica's sapphire optics narrowed even further.

"What, annoying little fliers who talk themselves up to compensate for something?"

Lyrica looked around for the source of the new voice in the conversation and saw a red mech and a golden mech resting at a booth two tables away. She sent a quick pleading look to them, wanting to get away from the arrogant flier who had seemed to want to claim her on first sight.

Slingshot snarled at Sideswipe, "Shove it up your exhaust hellion. I was just starting a lil' conversation with this femme."

A derisive snort from Sunstreaker. "Sure, a very good one, I can see you and her are just ready to jump in the berth together. Moron."

Lyrica now took the chance to wriggle free of the flier's grasp and to walk to a femme table, but was again stopped by Slingshot's arm wrapping around her waist.

"Let me go you fragger!" the songstress squealed. She really, really, didn't want to touch him, even if it was to defend herself.

The mech twins stood at her squeal and went into defend mode. They may be 'femminizers' themselves, but the Corvette twins were at least _gentlemechly _about it. Sideswipe reached around to loosen Slingshot's grip on Lyrica while Sunstreaker leaped behind the arrogant flier and pulled his arms behind him. Slingshot growled as his prize was taken away from him, trying again to lunge after the femme, but found himself eating the floor as Sunstreaker forced him down the ground.

"Were you _deaf_ last night Slingshot? Did Prime not make it clearer that we are not to harass a femme?" demanded Sunstreaker, brutally grinding the fliers red helm into the ground.

At the femme tables, Elita was relieved. Even though they were difficult to manage sometimes, the twins had obediently accepted her order. By doing that, she wouldn't be seen to be babying her femmes. Harsh, but it was needed. She had done that a few times, and most of the time it wasn't appreciated. Nodding to the twins and then to Esperanza, she settled back into conversation with her 2IC and 3IC, poring over light duty rosters for the femmes until they were up to full functioning capacity. Sending off a quick comm. for Prowl to come to the rec room, Elita re-absorbed herself in her work.

However, even the twins intervention did not stop a livid Muse from arriving in the rec room ready to punch out as many mechs as she needed to. The red swirled twin noticed, there, in the back of the rec room, a golden mech holding a flier down while a red mech was standing next to her twin with a hand on her shoulder speaker comfortingly.

"Just WHAT is going on here!" snapped out the huskier voiced singer, stalking to her sister.

"This fragger here," Sunstreaker huffed, shaking the flier still pinned underneath him roughly as he cussed, "Decided to try some moves on Lyrica. We stepped in. End of story."

"Let me up, _Sunshine_, or else I'll scratch your paint," whined Slingshot. The flier cried out when Sunstreaker, mouth set in a fiendish grin, reached down to pinch the tip of his wing, **hard**.

"You do, and you'll be crying over something a lot more painful than that," snarled Sunstreaker.

"I think some brig time will be suitable for our young flier here." As quietly as his name suggested, Prowl had entered the room, causing most of the bot's to avert their optics from the drama unfolding in front of them. The tactician stood, tapping his pede, a stern look on his face as he gazed upon the scene in front of him.

"Sunstreaker, let Slingshot up. Report to me later in the afternoon. Slingshot, you are going to serve a day and a half in the brig for deliberately disobeying orders from a superior officer," commanded the black and white police bot. Slingshot solemnly got up, allowing Prowl to nudge him in front as they moved to leave the rec room. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe glared at the fliers back, still pissed at his actions.

As he left, Prowl felt someone's optics on his form, and turned his helm to see Tauri gazing at him sternly.

'_You should still be resting Prowl,'_ the moon silver femme said over their bond. '_Remember, I can feel you now. I know you are finding it a bit difficult to stand and walk.'_

'_I'm fine for now. But thank you for your concern regardless,'_ Prowl sent back, and quirked the side of his mouth in a barely there smile at her.

'_Ok. Can I go to your quarters tonight?'_

'_They are yours as well now. The code on the keypad is 73223, as we haven't configured your energy signature to the reader yet.'_

'_See you then,_' Tauri acknowledged, before Prowl left.

In the back of the room, Sideswipe had guided Lyrica to their table, Muse and Sunstreaker following to sit opposite their own twin.

"Thanks guys," said Lyrica, looking at both mechs with gratitude.

"No problem," smiled Sideswipe.

"Yes there is a problem!" snapped Muse. Angrily, she pointed a finger at her twin and said, "You hate raising a hand to any Autobot, even if he was trying to have his wicked way with you!"

Lyrica sighed, not meeting her sisters gaze. '_I'm sorry Muse.'_

Muse was about to speak again when she felt the heat of a stare on her and turned to look at Sunstreaker, who was unashamedly looking her frame over. His gaze intense, he traced the red swirls on her silver paint without abandon.

"Do you mind?" Quirking an optic ridge, Muse waited for him to fumble with some chat-up line.

"Pardon. I was just thinking how good a model you would be," answered Sunstreaker nonchalantly.

"Excuse me?" Muse asked incredulously, much to the entertainment of Sideswipe and Lyrica. Sideswipe was the one to explain as Sunstreaker un-subspaced a sketch pad.

"What Sunny here means is that he has been struck by inspiration by looking at you. He's an artist you see."

"And without your hip holsters which were present at the introduction, I have just noticed how artistically proportionate your frame is. Now shut up and don't move," directed the sociopathic mech. Muse could only stare in disbelief at the golden mech, who had already sketched an outline.

Breaking the uneasy silence that had just fallen over their table, Sideswipe turned to Lyrica and said, "So, do you want to do anything about what just happened before?"

"Uh…."

"What's he talking about Lyrica?" cut in Muse.

"Oh nothing. When he helped me up earlier he just brushed my chestplates accidentally and …er….we reacted," supplied the songstress, hoping for nonchalance.

"Only if you want to do anything that is. You know, play some pranks, share some energon, whatever. I'm not stupid enough like Slingshot is to get on Prime's bad side in a situation like this," said Sideswipe. Muse did not cut in with a scathing remark, instead fixing her attention on her sister who had canted her helm to the side in thought.

"Yeah, ok. Just not for a few days. I'm still shuddering at the thought of that flier's hands on me," said Lyrica, smiling at the red toughliner.

"Not wasting time Sides?" asked Sunstreaker dryly.

Sideswipe threw back his head and laughed, "As if in the same situation your wouldn't offer the same? And I betcha that you're compatible with Muse if I'm with Lyrica." Sunstreaker scowled first at his brother, and then met Muse's identical scowl directed at his twin.

"I'm leaving Sides, I don't need the juvenile talk," said Sunstreaker, still scowling. As he got up he paused and looked at his unfinished drawing, and then looked to the silver twin with the vivid red swirls on her chassis. "I need to finish the drawing. Come to our quarters tonight," demanded the yellow twin, leaving Muse sputtering in disbelief.

"And what makes you think I'll do that?" Muse called after him.

The handsome face was serious as he replied, "Because you will never have the opportunity to be drawn by such a great artist ever again."

Muse and Lyrica just stared as the rec room doors closed after the golden form had left. Sideswipe chuckled, "Ah, that's Sunny for ya. Such a charmer. But seriously though Muse, I'd take him up on that, he rarely draws anyone in a private session."

And as Lyrica and Sideswipe made plans for getting to know each other better, Muse was seriously thinking that she would.

**A/N: Back at the Decepticons base in the next chap. BTW I'm asking my readers if they would prefer a Skyfire/Screamer romance if he gets turned into a femme, or a Megatron/Screamer one. **


	12. What's the situation PART 2

**A/N: This is on the same day as previous chapter, but at the Decepticon base. Will Flare-up kick some serious can? Read on to find out! You all know my disclaimers and such. **

**.**

**Of femmes and Sparklings chaper 12 – What's the situation - part 2**

**.**

**Unknown, Decepticon base.**

Flare-up had woken peacefully to an empty berth. Barricade had told her he had an early shift the next day. The day previous after their visit to the medbay, they had come back to the large quarters of the SD. The young femme had been alone after that, until Barricade had come back and they had evening energon together.

It was actually quite pleasant. Barricade, while not giving up all his secrets, had chatted amiably with her about what he had been like before the war, and vice versa. No talk about either faction, no demanding for intel. Just talk. They had a mutual respect for each other, at first grudging, but flowed out into a vein of friendliness that made the situation more of a 'enemy/friends with benefits' situation. Flare-up did not mind that at all.

And now it was mid-morning. On the _Star_ she, Firestar and Arcee would get together for energon before sparring together to keep each other in top condition if any battles arose. Not here in the Con base. She was to fuel and be _domestic_. Take care of the sparkling as it grew within her chestplates and do Barricade's bidding – paraphrased from Megatrons, 'Enjoy your spoils.'

Stretching, she hopped off the berth, hoping for some energon from the dispenser. But reaching the main room, she saw there wasn't enough in the canister underneath.

Confused, she opened up her side of the bond with Barricade and sent her question, hoping he would catch it. '_Barricade, there's no energon in the room. Is someone going to bring some down to me or something?'_

'_No.' _Barricade's reply was swift. '_I forgot to fill the dispenser. I'll see what I can do,'_

Frowning, Flare-up sat down to wait. Tracing the tips of her fingers in random patterns with the canister in her hands, she let her thoughts drift to the Autobot base. How were her friends and the other femmes going? Had they found a way to overcome the virus? Were some, like she, expecting a sparkling yet? Too many questions, no answers to be found until she escaped. And if she escaped, would the Con's try to capture her to stay in Barricade's quarters forever? Would Barricade allow her to go back? Sighing, the orange and red femme dropped her head to her chest.

Hearing shuffling outside the door, she snapped her head back up as there was a beep and the soft sound of a door sliding open, revealing Skywarp.

"Hey little missy! How are you doing here at Camp Con?" grinned the seeker. Although a great flier and warrior when he wanted to be, Skywarp had a reputation among the Autobots to be a bit ditzy at times. Cautious, Flare-up stepped closer to the taller mech.

"Are….are you here to bring me energon?" she asked.

Still grinning, Skywarp shook his head, "Nope, I'm gonna bring you **to** the energon. I'm your guard, so hold on!" Before she knew it, Flare-up had her arm gripped hard as she was warped with the seeker, dropping the canister as they warped.

As they arrived, she fell to the ground, gasping as she fell. Looking up to chastise the pranking seeker, she found herself the focus of multiple pairs of amber and blood-red optics. She shut her mouth and hauled herself up, waiting to see what would happen. She was obviously in the Con's rec-room.

Grabbing her arm again, Skywarp said, "I'm not going to get it for you or feed you, princess. I'm just the unlucky mech who guards you."

Before she could stop herself, she spat, "Don't call me 'princess.' The designation's Flare-up."

Instead of snarling back at her, he grinned, "Okay, Flare-up. Here's a dispenser, I'm sure you know how to use it. I'll just be over here." He warped all the way to the back of the rec-room, furthest away from the main energon dispenser. Flare-up huffed. Fine. If the seeker wanted to be childish and make her take a 'walk of shame' through all of the Decepticons here in the rec-room, then so be it. She was an Autobot bonded to one of them. They wouldn't touch her. She hoped.

She took a cube and filled it with mid-grade (the best for now until Hook could mix up some nutrient grade energon) and turned to face the room at large. While some Decepticons had gone back to their energon and conversations, others still watched her, pinning her under what felt like a hundred red gazes.

She glared at Skywarp, who smirked back. '_Bring it on,'_ she thought.

She stepped forward, trying not to notice the Decepticons on either side. It struck her as odd that they hadn't cuffed her for the trip here. Regardless she kept moving.

"Weakling," hissed Astrotrain as she passed. She faltered slightly, but kept going.

"Autobrat," snarled Vortex. Hardening her expression, she realised it was a test.

Upcoming on the left was a table with two femmes. Slipstream and Flamewar. Seeing the femme seeker smirk, she knew what was to come. "Little Auto-slut. Probably hasn't faced in so long she took the chance with Barricade." Flamewar remained expressionless. Flare-up wanted so badly to attack the disdainful, yet beautiful femme seeker. There were a few cruel snickers, but steeling herself, she finally reached the table where Skywarp sat, still grinning in a way that made Flare-up's energon boil.

She sat down, back facing the room, and didn't say a word. The young warrior femme merely shuttered her optics and drank.

Feeling a slight ping in her spark, she opened up her bond with Barricade. '_Well done,'_ he said, '_I saw and heard the whole thing through the cameras.'_ Flare-up sent her acknowledgement and closed the bond.

Skywarp was watching her with amused optics as she sat stubbornly. Shrugging, he got out a game pad and started fooling around with it. They sat in silence as Flare-up drunk the energon. She was almost finished when the rec-room doors slammed open and the Stunticons stomped through. Well, Motormaster stomped, the rest just followed.

The Stunticon leader was about to retrieve his daily energon when he caught sight of Flare-up, polished slender chassis standing out in a crowd of mostly blocky forms. The towering mech turned and sauntered across the room. Yes, he knew she was Barricade's. But he didn't give a damn. A femme was a femme, and they were meant for playing with - in Motormasters opinion – sparked up or not.

Skywarp saw the brute coming, but didn't say a word. He knew he still had to make up to the Menasor leader for a prank he had played on him a while back. If he interfered, Skywarp knew, without a doubt, that the truck would rip his wings off.

The seeker could only hope that Barricade was noticing.

Hearing heavy footsteps, Flare-up put down her cube and turned to look – and was met with a metal wall of black and dirty brown armour. She craned her head to look up at the glowing garish orange optics of Motormaster coldly.

"What?" said Flare-up in a bored tone. Giving a glare to Skywarp that told him to scram, the Menasor leader wrenched the slight form out of the seat and sat down where she had been sitting, placing her on his lap.

"Frag off!" Flare-up snarled.

She hadn't noticed that Skywarp had warped himself a few tables away. He had a duty as the femme's bodyguard, but he valued his wings just a little too much at the moment.

Motormaster paid no heed to the struggling of the femme in his lap, holding both her small wrists in one hand as he ran his hand down her side. She yelped in disgust as he continued to run his hand up and down.

Huffing, she yelled, "I'm bonded you glitch! As if you can do this with me!"

Motormaster grinned darkly, "I don't care. You'll do for what I want."

'_Oh he did not just….!'_ wondered Flare-up in disbelief. She growled. She was not going to be some helpless little femme. Oh no, she was going to give this 'King of the road' an introduction…..to her guns.

Un-subspacing her blaster (and with both wrists restricted too), she twisted the handle to blast a small hole in the Decepticons shoulder. The mech howled as she jumped free of his hold and leaped away. Motormaster, filled with fury, went after her like a raging bull. Flare-up nimbly jumped from table to table, upsetting cubes of energon as the mech behind her decimated those same tables.

Decepticons shouted angrily after them as the chase continued, energon now staining Motormaster's armour from when it had splashed on him, Flare-up beginning to pant with the extertion her smaller body was making to escape the much larger brute.

"YAH!" Flare-up called out as Motormaster missed snatching her pede by an inch. Seeing she was near a wall, Flare-up tried a move she thought she'd never try in her lifecycle.

Using all her strength in her legs, cables straining, she jumped off her current table, and kicked off from the wall. She slung her body through the air, landing off to the side of the large mech, who had realised his mistake too late and crashed head-first into the wall. The Decepticons throughout the room who had been watching this drama unfurl with intense curiosity laughed at the sight of Motormaster slumping to the ground for a brief moment.

"Oh Primus, the femmes been sent by Primus to kill us all! She and the little demon sparkling," shivered Breakdown, paranoia kicking in when he saw his leader slump, Stunticons looking on.

"Face it: We're doomed to die a painful death by a femme Autobot," acknowledged Dead End soberly.

Motormaster took his helm out of the new dent in the wall and shook it to get his processor back to full function, and turned to snarl at his gestalt-mates, static filling the snarl. Seeing the Autobrat femme with a little smirk on her faceplates, he charged again. One second the femme was standing there, smirking as he drew nearer, the next she had disappeared.

Flare-up had let herself fall to the ground and, as Motormaster was set to charge into her, raised her legs to catch him in the abdomen and flipped him over, his back landing with a resounding crash. Quickly getting up again, Flare-up tried to twist his arm behind his back to immobilise him, but was sent flying as he regained enough sense to land a punch into her side.

Gasping in pain, Flare-up retrieved her blaster and brought it up to target it on Motormaster's head.

"Don't…..you….dare," Flare-up panted, clutching her side as a few trickles of energon escaped her hand. The fraggin' punch had been powerful enough to dent her side far in enough to nick a few energon lines.

Motormaster had made as if to stand but was stopped by a cold voice at the door of the rec-room.

"You touch **my** bondmate one more time, or have hurt **my** sparkling in any way, Motormaster, I will dredge up every bit of blackmail I have and send it to every Decepticon and, if I'm feeling _really_ sadistic, every _Autobot_ as well. **While** I am slowly picking apart your carcass after offlining you by a painful and **slow** death. **Un-der-stood? Or do I have to break it down further?**"

Silence followed Barricade's cold, livid tones, broken by Breakdown's small "Eep!" and dashing out of the rec-room wimpering, 'they'll never take me alive!' and Dead End's 'yey, we're doomed,' muttering.

Still in silence, Barricade walked forward to Flare-up and picked her up with gentleness of a degree that Flare-up was grateful for. Acting the part of a fearful bondmate, Flare-up cuddled up to his chestplates with a stricken expression muttering 'I'm sorry.' He said nothing, still striding evenly, taking her to repair bay with Hook rapidly fixing the dent and energon leaks, checking the sparkling orb and confirming it was fine.

He didn't even open up his side of the bond until he was in his own quarters. Flare-up shrank back physically from the amount of roiling anger within his spark. Setting her down, Barricade paced to the dispenser and re-filled it from subspace pocket before turning around to scrutinise Flare-up.

"I'm sorry." Flare-up did not expect those words out of her newly bonded's mouth. Tentatively she asked, "What for Cade?"

Flare-up could see the gritting of his denta when he replied, "I was foolish, believing that you would be untouchable physically because you were bonded with a sparkling on the way. You will only go out with me there. I can't allow that to happen again."

"But you didn't know Motormaster was actually going to do that!" argued the femme.

"But I knew what he was like!" the SD snarled back. Seeing her taken aback expression, Barricade harshly ventilated through his intakes in an attempt to calm the fury within. Sending feelings of apology and receiving forgiveness, Barricade moved to lightly embrace Flare-up. Smiling, Flare-up reciprocated, clutching his back-plates in a way that Barricade knew that she had been truly scared of Motormaster. Not for herself, no. For the sparkling. He had felt it before he had abandoned his post to Soundwave to reach the rec-room where he knew where his sparkmate would be.

"I said I'd protect you and the sparkling to the best of my ability. Today was only part of what I'd do. After all….this is the first true family I have ever had," murmured Barricade comfortingly into her audial.

Pulling back slightly to glance at him in surprise, Flare-up had no time to question as Barricade leaned down to meld his lips against hers.

.

A/N: **WHOO! Flare-up kicked can! If only he wasn't so bloody big! But she can hold her own, she proved that much. Do people like this pairing? And does anyone have any suggestions as to how she escapes. Back to the Autobots for the next chapter. Still the same day!**

**p.s Cowardly Skywarp! Lol. Sorry, I just read an article on TF: A and the clones of Starscream and thought it was funny. **


	13. What's the situation PART 3

**A/N Ok, this is the last part of this. The next chapter will skip forward a week where genders of the sparkling are found out! You know all my disclaimers. Please review, even flames are welcomed, you know why? Cos it makes my ego boost and gives me stuff to work on, that's why. **

***Muses helm looks like Movie ROTF Chromias. You know, kinda pointed twice at the top, and narrowing to a chin. An elfish look. But without the ugly faceplates. They're smooth (G1 style) on Muse and Lyrica.**

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**Of femmes and sparklings – Chapter 13 – What's the situation part 3**

**.**

Capricornia knocked at the door of Sagittari's room, holding a large stack of datapads. She waited a few moments before the smiling face of her older sister appeared. Grabbing half the stack, Sagittari greeted, "Hey sis! How's everything?"

A sardonic smile graced the weapons specialist's mouth. "Would be a lot better without the virus. And the extra datapads you've given me."

The white and lavender femme seemed not to notice the sarcastic tone, and was still smiling as she placed the datapads on her desk and sank into her chair. Capricornia followed and immediately got down to business. She pointed at various datapads as she talked. "This one here has all the information that we have clearance for on each Autobot, past and present of the Autobot army. Anything that is blocked to our access is marked so. And Prowl said you can see him if we have an issue with one of those." Nodding, Sagittari listened idly.

"These four are on the virus we have, spark-bonding, sparkling orb and sparkling care. Those are from Ratchet, he's been busy. This other one Aquaris has made up on maturation of the sparkling and normal stages of development. This smaller one," Capricornia indicated to a small orange pad, "is about the kinds of defects that can happen. The rest are all a further introduction to the procedures here on Earth and in getting along with the native organics. They are plentiful."

Sagittari looked at the mass of datapads before her with a bewildered expression on her face. Darting violet optics up to Capricornia's, she asked, "And when do I have to read all these by?"

"A fortnight. But no later apparently. And before you ask, no, I can't help you this afternoon," explained Capricornia.

Sagittari pouted, "Why not? You've always helped me before."

"Don't whine, that's exactly why you need to do this by yourself. You are the leader of the Zodiac femmes, remember," chided the purple femme. Sagittari sighed, but then brightened when she realised Capricornia had not answered her question and pestered her, saying, "So what's going on this afternoon? Met someone? Coming out of the cave you call a room?"

"Yes," came the stiff answer. Sagittari's grin came back to her face.

"So? Come on, I want some more information," she pleaded, trying her best petro-puppy look.

Capricornia shook her head. "I think you have enough information right in front of you," she reminded, tapping the datapads. Before her sister could pester her again, she left. Saggitari grinned, knowing her standoffish sister must have had a really good connection with this bot she was meeting to not want to give her even a little hint.

.

**Roulette**

Roulette could only marvel at the ingenuity of the virus that had come from her sister's faction. Of course, it wouldn't stop her from completely going about her everyday life. And besides, she had some mechs she wanted to say hi to. The silver, gold and purple femme entered the rec-room and immediately spotted the mechs she wanted to see. Trailbreaker, Smokescreen and Sideswipe, and all at the same table.

Waving and walking over to them she greeted them warmly. "Hey mechs, it's good to see you all again." She gave Trailbreaker a hearty slap on the shoulder before glancing at Smokescreen.

"You still owe me 50 credits from that last game I won," she mentioned. She ignored Sideswipe's rolled eyes as Smokescreen began his verbal attack.

"Not this again. I told you, you cheated."

"No I didn't, I just had the unfair advantage. After all, you had the shoddy grip on the holo-cards."

"Because you were telling jokes!"

Roulette raised an optic ridge incredulously. "You asked me to!"

"You didn't have to."

"But you wanted me to."

"You're such a typical femme Roulette, always going back to things after they've been settled," mocked Smokescreen, cheeky glint in his optics.

"Fine. We'll just have ourselves a little re-match. Double or nothing with an extra surprise. If you win, I do whatever you want for a whole day – Earth day mind – and the same if I win. _Then_ we'll see if we settle it," challenged the femme. Smokescreen held out his hand and Roulette grasped it and gave it a firm shake. Identical smirks were shared before Roulette retrieved an energon cube and sat. It was always good to clear business before pleasure.

"So, how have things been?"

**At another table**

Blurr was sitting impatiently with Hound, Mirage, Perceptor and Maelstrom waiting for Drift to come off shift and join them for an evening cube. The other four were chatting amiably about their new home and the base, but Blurr found his attention wandering, not to his late friend, but to Scorpia.

The femme had impressed him with her speed, and intrigued him with her seemingly anti-social attitude. At the introduction on the first day, she had introduced herself as an assassin. Maybe, he mused, she didn't have great communication skills with others because of her occupation. But there was no denying her strength or speed. Or her looks. While plain in comparison to other femmes, Scorpia, like most Autobot femmes, had been built for strength and skill in war in some form, and in optic-appeasing looks.

And the colour scheme had greatly appealed to Blurr. Now, he wondered, what would she look like when she smiled?

"Blurr? Hello! Cybertron to Blurr," called Hound, waving his hand in front of his faceplates.

"Yeah?"

"If you hadn't been daydreaming, you would have seen Drift come in," responded Hound. Blurr snapped his head side to side and hurriedly scanned the room for the white and red swordsmech. Blurr finally found him at a booth off to the side, but he wasn't alone.

"Perceptor, tell me if I'm wrong, but it that a _femme_ with Drift right now?" questioned the racer. Looking over Perceptor nodded.

"Yes. It appears that Drift is sharing energon and conversing with the female Autobot known as Capricornia, second of the zodiac sisters and femme weapons specialist. Remarkable about the sisters though," rambled Perceptor.

Blurr looked at his once-Decepticon friend and smirked. '_Oh you lucky slagger.'_

**With Drift and Capricornia**

Capricornia had arrived at the booth earlier and waited patiently for Drift to arrive. She did not want to be conspicuous, and so had arrived earlier. She was nursing a cube of energon when she felt a presence near her. Darting her optics to the side, she saw the white plating of Drift.

"Standing there won't be productive," remarked the femme. Drift laughed quietly and slid into the opposite seat, placing his own cube on the table before him.

"Combative with swords, combative with words. I like it," mentioned Drift.

"Well, I like to speak with my words as sharp as my swords and to articulate as good as I fight," bantered back Capricornia. They both laughed at her witty remark and each took a drink.

Glancing at his drink before looking up again, Drift asked, "How deep and personal do want to talk? Just so my cavalier attitude doesn't get me into trouble again."

"Well," started Capricornia, "You said you wouldn't mind taking this deeper. Just ask away. Questions I won't answer, I won't. Simple."

"Fair enough. Ask away," agreed the swordsmech, getting more comfortable and leaning back into the booth.

A small smile graced her lips as she asked her first question. "Ok. What made you join the Autobot's?"

"Ah. It's the tiniest bit complex," said Drift, and took another sip of energon, continuing, "You see, I used to be the Decepticon Deadlock." He paused to watch her reaction.

Looking at him with a non-plussed expression, the weapons mistress said, "Is that the complexity?"

A full blown smile crossed Drift's face and said, "I'm glad to see you're not bothered by this fact. Primus knows others have been more than bothered by it. But, as you can see, I've changed. It was quite radical actually. I had been a Decepticon all my life. I lost both my carrier and creator when I was young and I lived off the street. I stole to keep myself alive. Once, I went to a youngling centre, but escaped when the caretakers wanted to beat me for defending a younger bot against their verbal lashing – however justified. After that escaping a similar incident happened. A friend of mine who had helped to shelter me was killed by Autobot law enforcement. Something…snapped within me, and I had my first kill at a young age," recalled Drift, now beginning to tell his whole story. He had told Blurr, who trusted him. Drift had never met anyone from the get-go who was willing to listen past 'Hi, I used to be a Decepticon.' And there was something else about her he just couldn't pin-point, so he continued speaking quietly.

"I was trained as a killer by other low-life's. I found fault with the council at the time and was motivated by Megatron's talks of equality, of a better Cybertron. To make the my story shorter, let's say I rose up through the ranks quickly, mercilessly. And one day, a mission had gone wrong. They called me a traitor and my commander, Turmoil, wanted to execute me."

Capricornia snorted, "Doesn't surprise me they'd try and so that."

Nodding, Drift replied, "It's the way it was. I escaped execution and fell in with this group of Neutrals. They were called the Circle of Light, and believed in pacifism – but this also including not helping anyone and solely protecting themselves. There was one. Wing, his designation was. He pushed me, asking me what the Decepticons stood for. He said he would let me go if I learned to defeat him with swords, and not guns, which I had favoured at the time. During my time there, I found myself thinking that this was what I had wanted Cybertron to end up as."

"As what?"

Gravity laced his tone and optics dimmed slightly as he replied, "They had preserved our original culture so perfectly. A place of scholarly pursuits, a place of peace, of equality and fairness in front of their council. But balanced with elegant pursuits of the art of fighting styles. Fighting to display strength, as exercise, not as a tool to be used in brute force. It was, in a sense, a utopia, but with one main problem. They kept to themselves, and didn't broadcast their message for the good of others. Nevertheless, while I was there I…." he paused to collect himself, "I finally turned around. I realised that the Decepticon cause had changed, we went about everything the wrong way. I regretted what I had done."

A tentative hand closed over his. "What happened? Did you eventually escape and run to the Autobots?"

"No. Not immediately. A coded message came in to the city. Slavers had a Decepticon give them a message to pass on to me. They wanted me back. I would be welcomed with open arms if I gave them the location of Crystal City, which was hidden. That was the start of being 'good,' I guess you could say. I re-designed myself to honour the faction that had, in a way, saved my life. I rebelled against the slavers and won. I did so with the use of my Great Sword, the one I used against you in our tryst this morning. They let me go, and asked me to stay. I declined. It was time to bring the Decepticons to realisation, and to justice. And to wipe the black years off my spark." Drift concluded his tale to the rapt optics of Capricornia.

"Why?" she asked warily, "Why have you told me all this so soon of knowing each other?"

"I believe it is my turn to ask you a question," deadpanned the mech. Seeing the look she gave him, Drift answered truthfully, "There's something about you. It's like I knew you'd understand. Completely, and not just because we are designated compatible." Their optics locked, an intense gaze much like the one they had shared before their spar in the morning – only with a more emotional undercurrent running through it.

"The great sword…draws off your spark energy?"

"Yes."

The emotional gaze was broken by Capricornia's sharp slap to the side of his head. "What was that for!" Drift asked petulantly. Raising an optic ridge, Capricornia said sternly, "A sword such as that is only to be used in _dire_ situations. What were you thinking?"

"Same as your sword I bet."

"…Touché."

"Besides, I hadn't used it in a while. It did not affect me as much as it did when I used it regularly on Cybertron," said Drift. He noticed that she had let go of his hand. He felt….a bit disappointed if he had to be honest with himself.

"My turn anyway. And you? What was your reason? For joining the Autobots that is," asked Drift, wondering if she was less complex than he was.

Capricornia's body language abruptly changed. Instead of receiving and open, it had subtly morphed to defensive. She had sunk back into the seat, and had curled her hand around her energon cube, as fearing it would be taken away. Drift frowned. He had basically poured out his spark to her in hopes of getting her to trust him. Surely anything she had wouldn't be anywhere as bad as what he had been through.

Drift was relieved when she finally answered him after a few minutes of silence, which had felt like an eternity.

"My past is no-where as detailed or as complex as yours, but it is this: not told to any except for those in command. My past is even a secret from all my sisters. They know who I am now, not who I was before the war. I'm only going to tell you because you have so generously shared with me….something that I can tell is uncharacteristic for you as it is for me," Capricornia said softly.

"You see, I'm not proud of the fact that my carrier was the only Decepticon femme that our collective creator ever sparked. For the rest of my siblings, it's not a big deal because their carriers were either Autobots or Neutrals. But me…I'm full sparked Decepticon. And not just any old plain Con femme. No. Acid Blast, Thunderblast's sister, whom she killed shortly before I reached maturity. I was so close to being a Con. She even brought me up like that, however the times had changed. I saw the flaws in the design of the Decepticon cause. If it even was one when I was sparked," Capricornia continued to speak softly, now relaxing a little, tense cables loosening as she told her of her past.

"You see, Acid Blast didn't raise me on the base. She was too ashamed to after Enigmus had taken most of our credits and we had to live in an alley in the smallest apartment for the cheapest rent. She continued to work as a Con informant, no longer the Con femme weapons specialist."

Drift's optics widened, "I heard about that actually, when I was just reaching maturity, about the femme who had left for some reason, who was a weapons specialist."

"Yes. In addition to being an informant she…basically became a pleasure drone to make extra credits. But you know what's funny? She loved me. While she taught me all about weaponry and about the Decepticons, she never blamed me for being in her life or spark. She sent me to a small Academy and left me just enough credits to get by when she was murdered. Until I heard about your past, I thought it would be an invitation for others to mistrust me if they found out the truth about my past. It makes me feel less alone to know someone who has brushed – in your case, been immersed in – that dark side of the moon sort of life," explained Capricornia. Their optics had met each other's yet again and they had no intention of looking away this time.

"And finding your sisters?"

"They found me actually. I was working in a gunnery, and had been for some vorns, learning more about weapons with a mech named Gunnar – who had been very generous to me in giving me shelter and a job. Sagittari was the one to want to bring us all together." Here the purple femme smiled. "As soon as we were all together, we made a unanimous decision to join the Autobots. My dislike for the Decepticons goes beyond the faults in what they do. It's what they have done to our home. It's how some of their mechs do something like what Enigmus did to each of mine and my sisters carriers. It's in the way that they refuse to see what has been done…unlike you Drift. You've seen and understood."

The silence that followed the end of the strong statement was neither awkward or comfortable. It was just….there.

"For only asking one question each, I think we went deep today," remarked Drift, finishing his energon. Capricornia laughed softly, the rich sound of it flowing over Drift's audio's.

"If you want, we can only do those two questions for today. How about-"

"Drift! Mech, I thought you were going to have energon with us!" The blue mech that had called out and interrupted their conversation was striding towards them, a grin displaying shiny denta. The lean racer's body stopped next to their table.

"I forgot. Pardon me Blurr," apologising, Drift winced inwardedly. Blurr sometimes had the worst possible timing, the speed-freak, even though he was his best friend.

Gesturing animatedly, Blurr encouraged, "C'mon over then. Capricornia can come over too you know, so she can be introduced to more of the _Ark_ crew excepting you. See you there." With a wink, the racer sped back to his table, where the other mechs were watching expectantly.

"Is he always like this?" came Capricornia's dry question.

Still smirking, Drift said, "Only when he wants to find out something. He's usually not as animated. Might be something to do with Scorpia."

Capricornia looked sharply at the swordmech. "Meaning?"

"Before the battle where you contracted the virus-"

"Got shot with. There is a difference."

"Of course. Anyway, before that he met her racing out on the plain before the base. He raced with her or something like that and was impressed by her speed, even though she was not as fast as he is. He came into my quarters as I was settling in and started talking about her. She fascinates him evidently, this younger sister of yours. I think he wants to find out some intel. about her from you," mentioned Drift. They simultaneously rose and moved towards Blurr's table.

"If you thought I'm a bit of a hard nut to crack, I can't wait to see how Blurr will go with this. Scorpia is the most closed off of all of us," mused Capricornia.

"You weren't too hard."

"Because you gave me a reason to trust you."

"I'm flattered."

"Don't overgrow your processor there Drift," bantered back the purple femme. Reaching the table, introductions were made and conversation struck up. Before long, Blurr had started talking to her. Drift had been right. He _was _fascinated by Scorpia. Answering the racer's inquiries without giving too much away, Capricornia wondered if her anti-social younger sister would yield to the racer if he chose to pursue. For it seemed that this racer Blurr, when he was fascinated with something, pursued with all his speed.

.

**Picyries lab**

Aquaris and Picyries had earlier received the coded data packets from Ratchet and Wheeljack, and were now settled in the small dark blue femmes lab to try to figure out a way to use the virus as warfare on Starscream. They had been working since mid-morning to analyse the components of the virus in the spacious, organised grey lab. There was a faint beeping of a code fabricator, and there was the shuffle of datapads as Aquaris sat back from her computer.

"It's possible."

Picyries looked up from her analyser was trying to figure out the exact code of the virus and grinned at her aqua-coloured older sister. "How much of a challenge is it going to be?"

Smirking, Aquaris replied, "Just enough so we will be very self-satisfied when we achieve it. We need Virgo. She's brilliant at coding."

As if she had heard her name being summoned, the hot pink femme strode into the room.

"It is possible to turn Starscream into a femme?" inquired the youngest femme in the room.

"Yep!" exclaimed Picyries excitedly. "I can't wait to see what it'll do! I think it's about time Starscream was taught to take some of his own bad energon."

"It's really quite a shame we won't be around to see the conversion on his frame to femme. It would be very amusing. Assuming of course, that we successfully fabricate the coding needed and successfully transmit and integrate it with Starscreams systems," remarked Aquris, now smiling slyly.

Virgo knew that look. Femme medic Aquaris might be, but beneath the somewhat prim exterior, Aquaris could be rebellious and revolutionary when the time called for it. This was one of the times. "Enlighten me, dear sisters, on what will happen?"

Aquaris explained, "First off, if done right, the interface components will be changed first."

"No way."

"Way. The metal used to make up the male component will disintegrate and absorb into the body, and parts will rearrange and some will be fabricated to make up his…her…femme component. She will become slimmer around the waist, chestplates and pelvis region becoming slightly wider, much like the femme shape. The program for carrying and sparkling protection programs will integrate with the processor. The metal that was made for the bulkier frame of the mech will break down and rearrange itself also in the body, wherever needed. However, the first part will be slightly painful, regrettably. The rest shouldn't harm him too much – it was designed that way," said Aquaris. She still had the smile on her faceplates, showing her satisfaction in finding the means for making the procedure.

"So where do I come in?" asked Virgo, leaning against a nearby bench.

"You are going to help with coding the virus and coding it to apply while also interacting with the virus that will force him to have sparkling," piped in Picyries.

The triple-changer nodded. Then, looking around the room, her upper lip curled in dissatisfaction. "Only in here less than a day and the place looks a mess." Ignoring her sisters exasperated looks, she tidied up the datapads on both their desks, making straight, even piles sorted alphabetically. Green optics latched on the three dormant code analysers and placed them neatly in the case behind them, then wiping down the bench with a rag nearby. Satisfied that the rest of the room was acceptable for now, she left with a wave.

"Comm. me when you get to the stage of needing me," the hot pink neat-freak femme called over her shoulder, not noticing the disbelieving looks on the femmes faces.

"She's only going to get worse," mentioned the smaller, darker blue femme.

"Of course. She haven't discovered mud just yet," replied the larger aqua femme.

Picyries giggled. Aquaris was always easy to talk to, even if she wasn't so forthcoming about herself during conversation. Twirling her seat around, Picyries, still smiling asked, "Speaking of this virus. I heard about a certain past between you and a gunner here in the ranks. True or False? This femme scientist must know!"

Scowling, Aquaris also whirled her seat around to stare probingly at the other femme. "Oh? State your source."

"Wheeljack. We were chatting this morning and he told me, and he heard from a young gunner named Bluestreak. Wheeljack's nice. But anyway, is it true you danced to pay to be a medic? And you and this gunner….er…"

Snorting softly at Picyries slight awkwardness, Aquaris thought she might as well get the story straight. "Yes. Only once though. With Bluestreak, because it was a gift from one of those twins in our ranks for his sparkday. They had brought a lot of credits, because they wanted a 'clean' femme to introduce their friend to the world of interfacing. I was the only one in that whole club and only accepted because the payment was large and would get me out of that place forever," said the femme medic evenly, having switched her hands to medical tools and checking they were clean.

"So that's how you learned to dance so well. Hey, you know what just occurred to me?" the scientist thought aloud.

Shaking her head, knowing unwise to delay the inevitable – as Picyries would often look for new possibilities and wonder about situations – and waited for her to speak.

"What if Bluestreak's spark is compatible to you?"

Aquaris choked, before bursting out into laughter, confusing the smaller femme.

"Picyries….it would….he he….be unbelievably ironic to the nth degree. Only…" more giggles, "Primus himself would think of doing that."

"Why not? It's possible!" insisted Picyries. Canting her helm to the side, watching her sister as she collected herself to turn back to her terminal. Right now, with things as they were on Earth, surely Aquaris would be a little more open to possibilities?

"Might be. But I can't afford to focus on that right now. Starscream has thrown down the gauntlet. I intend to get it and slap him with it," muttered Aquaris. Picyries shook her head, dark blue helm reflecting the bright lights of the lab. The femme medics rebellions side was showing it's mean streak. Getting back to her work, Picyries wondered if there would be a day where she could tell her sister 'I told you so.'

.

**Evening, Sunstreaker's quarters. **

Much to the melee warriors surprise, when Prowl had told him to come to his office this morning, he was expecting a lecture at the least for hurting Slingshot (even though he was in the wrong) during their altercation. But he had been treated to a weary thanks from Prowl for both obeying Elita-One's orders and for obeying what they had stipulated the night before and helping protect a femme who needed it. But before he had believed an imposter was sitting in Prowls place, he was warned, of course, not to be rough.

And now, walking to his new _singular_ quarters, he hoped that Muse would be there. It was good for once to have separate quarters from Sideswipe, but they had a shared space between their rooms, and doors leading between them for the instances they needed the other close by.

Sunstreaker hadn't been lying that morning. He had been dry of inspiration for most of the war artistically, the arrival of the femmes on their first day had him looking for a muse. He had noticed Muse and her twin Lyrica, but they had not quite…_fit_. And he placed it out of his processor. That morning seeing Muse without her hip holsters where he had recalled bearing two small guns, had brought the creative part of his processor to life. He hadn't meant to stare so intently in such obvious interest. After all, he was _Sunstreaker_, the best looking mech in all the galaxy, if not the universe, and far better than many mechs. Femmes were meant to stare at _him_.

But she had been perfect physically. A chrome silver frame and contoured armour panels decorated with vivid vermillion swirls had caught his attention in no time at all. She was proportionate, every part of her was, from her pedes, to the servos and hands, to her helm and faceplates. Every artists dream. Her helm was especially proportionate. Pointed and curved in all the right places (* see above authors note). It was going to be a joy to paint or draw it.

Turning into a corridor in the Housing sector 2, he saw a defiant femme standing in front of his door. He smirked. She had came! The thought made him feel disturbingly pleased.

Hearing footsteps, Muse turned to see who was approaching. Catching sight of the golden mech, she said, "This better not be a come on. There better be something artistic going on, or I swear I'll drop kick you back to Cybertron."

Still smirking, Sunstreaker said, "Nope. Just business."

Ah. That was the other thing that had amused Sunstreaker. Her refusal to take anything at face value, such as his undoubtedly handsome looks. She was not like a turbo-puppy following him around like other femmes he knew had. He had gotten bored of those femmes after a while. Narrowing his optics on the frame before him, the golden mech knew Muse was going to be something better. She was going to be a _challenge_.

Palming open the door, he followed her in, turning on the lights and locking the door. It would be unfortunate if any other mech (namely Sideswipe) just waltzed in to witness him drawing the femme. Turning back to the room, he saw Muse offering him a cube of energon.

"Trying to drug me to avoid being painted?"

"No. Just thought that I'd get you some. The least I could do if you are going to paint me. Something your brother said you don't do very often," said Muse, a little defensively. Shrugging, Sunstreaker took the cube and downed it in one go.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he said, "True. But I restate what I said this morning. You have the perfect frame for an artist to draw. You have no idea. Now, because the lighting here is different than in the rec-room, I was wondering if you would lie on my berth on your side, facing this chair," gesturing to an empty, cushioned chair before continuing. "It would be easier than if you were sitting like you were this morning."

"Fine. I thought you insinuated that you shared quarters with your twin," remarked the musician, wondering.

"We do. Sorta. Through that door on the right is a shared 'living room' I guess, and his room his through another door on the right in that room. I like the space we never had. Now get comfortable." Making his way to a storage closet and pulling out his art materials, such as his metal easel, charcoals, graphite styluses and paints, Sunstreaker noticed Muse cautiously watching him as she slipped gracefully onto his berth, lying on her side.

Smiling to himself, he set up. He was in his true element at last. The adrenaline of a battle, or the glee of a prank were nothing to the peace he felt then he painted. Lifting his head, he sighed, almost inaudibly. Perfection.

The slight curves….the long, lean lines of her legs stretched out on the black covers, contrasting with her silver frame. One hand was resting on the berth just below her chestplates, lightly twining her fingers in the sheets. She had her helm propped up on the other elegantly arched hand, and was looking at him, sapphire optics seeming to search him for intent. Waiting for him to begin.

"I was right," he mentioned, starting to sketch an outline on his canvas.

"About what?"

"You are a great model. Perfect pose. Now I just have to dim the lights a little….there!" The room lights had dimmed a little to cast a soft golden glow over the room, creating emphasis on parts of light and shadow.

He did not look up from his work much, only to make sure the picture he had in his processor was correct for the sketch. Going back to the real thing was need more for the actual painting of it.

Finishing the sketch, Sunstreaker reached down for the paints, and the silence was broken by Muse's naturally slightly husky voice. "Do you mind if I hum? There are some great melodies in my processor and I need to unleash them….artist to musical artist."

"Whatever, as long as you don't move too much. I want this to be perfect," replied Sunstreaker, surprised at how amiable he was. But it was the mood induced by painting. Starting the background of silver walls and black sheets trailing off the edge of the berth, the golden mech found himself listening intently to the low, full sounds the femme was producing.

Looking over the canvas, his optics met hers, which had softened in the time passed. The intensity in both gazes seemed to pass beyond surface level, and into their sparks. Breaking the gaze, Sunstreaker felt his chassis warm. He could not understand why he was affected this way. Well, he could, the femme was unquestionably sexy, but so suddenly?

The slight whirring of cooling fans from Muse told him he wasn't the only one.

However, he ignored it, and didn't allow his hands to still, finishing off the details of the background: the slight crevice in the metal wall above her helm, the rippling of the covers of the berth. Complete, now was the time to paint in Muse's perfection.

Muse was embarrassed. When he had locked gazes with her, she felt like she was just reaching maturity all over again. The silent passion – for what, she wasn't sure – in his optics had made her insides melt. Shuttering her optics briefly, a little fantasy played across her CPU. That strong, golden body holding her close, staring intently into her as he dipped her down and kissed her….

'NO!' she screamed at herself internally. Yes, the mech was devastatingly handsome, and was painting her for the only reason other than he felt like it, but she wouldn't fall for him – at least, not within a day of knowing him. Unshuttering her optics again, Muse saw him comfortably painting in something. She sighed heavily. Too…bloody….late.

Looking up at her sigh, Sunstreaker said, "I'm almost done."

"Oh, the sigh wasn't in impatience," Muse supplied, but Sunstreaker had already returned to the painting. He was moving quicker now, filling in the shadows and dappling golden light over her hips where the lights hit them. Sunstreaker was very satisfied with his work so far. The helm was perfect, the swirl design in bright red done to match the real-life Muses frame, and the curves and straight lines melded properly. Adding in one last detail – the soft sapphire of her optics, Sunstreaker leaned back. It was more than a masterpiece. It was proof that he was still one of the greatest artists in Cybertron.

"Done," he said, standing up and grasping the easel carefully to heft it over to the berth, where Muse was now sitting up. Placing it down, he sat next to her and turned it with a flourish, waiting to see the songstress's reaction.

Upon seeing the painting, Muse gasped. "That…..that can't be me!" she blurted. Looking at the warrior, she protested, "This isn't really me, it's a more beautiful me….I-I.." Muse couldn't help dragging her gaze back to the painting. There she was on her side. But she looked….dare she even think it?...desirable. She had a sort of 'come hither' air about her, which she had not intended to do. Her frame in the painting seemed to reflect the light like she had done in real life. She was so shapely and ethereal, she couldn't believe it. Though Sunstreaker had been right. The obsidian covers of the berth had made her stand out.

A light touch on her cheek was Muse's only warning before Sunstreaker snapped her gaze to his. "I only paint what I see in front of me Muse. That is you. _That_ is what I saw. If you don't like it, deal with it," the golden bot said lowly.

"No, I _like _the painting, it's more than any praise I could tell you! I just can't believe how well you've done me," Muse insisted.

"I haven't _done_ you yet," a sultry whisper echoed around the room from the golden mechs pouty lipplates. She couldn't look away now. His optics were like two bright blue bolts of lightning that had zapped her. Their close proximity made her curious. Taking the chance, Muse brought her left hand to his broad chestplate.

Sideswipe had been right. They reacted. The bright blue lance of energy bounced between them, and then broke.

Sunstreakers optics turned predatory. The temptation was too much, coupled with the steadily rising heat within him at seeing how _hot_ this femme was, how she didn't know her own perfection, and the look of lust she sent him, so he gathered her in his arms and, before she could react, melded his lips to hers. Muse was initially surprised, but melted into his arms, wrapping her own around his neck and reciprocating. Sunstreaker ran his glossa along her bottom lip, demanding entrance – he needed to taste. She did so, and glossa's clashed in a passionate battle for dominance. It was too good…too _hot_… and Sunstreaker knew that if he didn't pull away, he'd be in trouble.

Ripping himself away, he whispered huskily, "Slag. How in Primus did we get so into each other so quick? Never mind."

Muse was panting slightly. The way the mech had kissed her had lit her fire like no other mech had done before. It was good to see their attraction was mutual.

"Get out."

The harsh growl threw her for a loop. "Wha-?"

Blazing optics on hers once again. "If you don't get out soon, you will find yourself pinned to the berth and me doing something I'd rather not do with you just yet," Sunstreaker said slowly, trying to control himself.

Optics widening, Muse nodded. She stood, but before leaving, she dropped a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you for painting me."

"It was my pleasure." The husky purr from the golden mech almost made Muse stay. But collecting her wits, she left. Sunstreaker stared heatedly after her. He had been so close to losing control of his lust. Now looking at the picture, he knew he'd have to take a cold wash before he even thought of recharging.

.

**Prowl**

Prowl stumbled tiredly into the officers quarters, thanking Primus the day was over. The issue with Slingshot had especially grated on his nerves. It was illogical to do something that one was told _explicitly_ the night before not to do. And then, his battle computer was not completely online because of him only being returned to health two days previous.

Palming open the door, Prowl was greeted with the sight of his sparkmate sitting down at his table with two cubes in front of her.

"Good evening," Prowl greeted, sitting adjacent to her. Tauri smiled at him. "Hello to you too. I noticed you felt tired and warmed up some low-grade."

Looking quizzically at her for her to explain, Tauri supplied, "You were broadcasting how tired you were through the bond. Logically, I figured you'd need something. How are you feeling?"

"Well….if tired. I was actually hoping for a slight reprieve after the meetings last night, but that just goes to show the sheer idiocy of some mechs." Rubbing his chevron distractedly and sipping away at his energon before asking, "And you?"

"I played therapist today to Esperanza. She's just a little worried about hers and Bee's relationship with the virus and all. Then I just put everything up in my quarters in the femme quadrant. Nothing like yours," Tauri smiled.

Smiling back at her, letting his mask ebb a bit, Prowl asked, "Can you tell me, perhaps, what was life like for you on Cybertron?"

"I loved being a therapist. Although it was sparkbreaking sometimes for some of the bots who came through – what they had been through – it always made me feel….good, whenever I or my colleagues managed to help somebot with the improvement in the quality of their life. But being empathetic, whenever we couldn't save someone from their own personal demons, I would feel it. I'd cry for them, for their sparks. But I would rather still be doing that than being a sharpshooter," said Tauri. Cycling her vents in an equivalent of a human sigh, she went on.

"The outbreak of war meant I had to be careful. My carrier was a Neutral who had been a therapist before me, and encouraged me to stay like that. But I wasn't so sure. Whenever I walked home to our apartment, I could feel the strings of tension in the air, pulled tight and ready to snap. So I en-rolled myself in a beginners shooting course at a gunnery. We had been living in Tyger Pax at the time. I got good, and eventually got best at the gunnery, which earned me my favourite gun that I use now." Noticing they had both finished their energon, Tauri collected their cubes and tipped them into a storage cupboard.

"How did you meet your sisters?" inquired Prowl, leaning against the back of his chair, head tipped to observe the moon silver femmes movements as she padded back to the table and into her chair.

"They found me at my office. The war had already begun –when I was a youngling. But it had been after my carrier had died. She died the human equivalent of 4 months before hand – when they found me. I was the 5th to be found. By that time, it was Saggitari, Aquaris, Capricornia and Gemini. After that, we went around to find the other sisters. Saggitari wanted to make a difference, which is how we found ourselves as Autobots," Tauri explained.

Sensing there was more to it, Prowl asked, "Are you happy as an Autobot?"

"Definitely. I just wish there could be a way to stop the war to slow down the suffering," responded the femme.

"It has gotten tiresome over the years," agreed Prowl.

"What about you? Was there a bot before the 2IC? Because I heard some rumours that you were sparked an adult," smiled Tauri, a teasing note in her voice.

Shaking his head slightly in amusement, Prowl said, "Unbelievably, yes. I was sparked in Praxus, the only sparkling of a normal couple who had an average income and were quite happy with each other. They cared for me, but like myself, they were bonded to their jobs as well as each other. My creator was a holo-programmer, while my carrier was a nurse. I became an enforcer straight out of the Academy, because, I guess like you, I wanted to improve the quality of life for those in Cybertron by making Praxus safer. I later became an Autobot when the death of one of the head council members caused mutterings. Just before Sentinel Prime was assassinated and Optimus came as head of the Autobots."

"Praxus…where…."

"The war began. Well, in the attacking sense. Political warfare and subterfuge attacks had been increasing, but this was the first full-scale attack Megatron had led. I was head of Tactics at the time," here Prowl paused, flickers of memories coming to the forefront of his processor. The death and destruction had been immense, and had almost overwhelmed him. The mood had turned sombre.

Tauri looked a little less joyous like she had earlier, but still pressed, "I remember when I was a youngling, the news reported only 27 survivors. Out of a city of thousands. More than that."

"One survivor was Bluestreak. I found him and became his mentor and….unnn…." Prowl suddenly winced, his doorwings, still mending from the damage sustained to them and over-sensitised, had locked into place, and one was pinching a twisted wire.

"Prowl?" came Tauri's concerned voice.

"Doorwings…locked and pinching a….ow…..wire. Could you please?"

"Of course."

Tauri swiftly stepped behind him, careful not to touch the wings – she had felt how over-sensitised they were over the bond, Prowl was 'broadcasting' again – and softly pressed her fingers into the hinge of the left doorwing. Finding the pinched wire, she manipulated it out from its spot trapped in the hinge and pressed it back into its place. Shuddering out a relieved sigh, Prowl tested the manoeuvrability of his wings and, seemingly satisfied, thanked Tauri and was about to say goodnight when Tauri's hands on his shoulder stopped him.

"Which is your berthroom?" she asked sweetly. Pointing to the left, she grasped his hand and led him to it.

"What are you doing?" Prowl asked, alarmed.

"I wasn't a therapist just so I could _talk_. I found that a good massage aided the bots and in their revealing information about them. You're tired and aching from working today when you shouldn't have. Let me ease your frame a little. Please?" she asked, somewhat begging her sparkmate to let her do this, to take care of him and pacify her need to help those who are hurt.

Sighing and admitting he'd like something to relax, he let her walk into his room. While his living space had been sparsely (and tastefully) decorated with Cybertronian artefacts and shades of warm red and brown, his berthroom had been set up magnificently by Jazz. The covers of his berth were navy blue, and the ceiling had been painted to look like the stars from a view on one of Praxus's highest towers. On the walls were various pictures of Cybertron. On the desk next to the data terminal was a gift from Jazz. A transformer sized Rubix Cube, and a few other tactical games. A holo on the bedside table next to a lamp showed different scenery with each change, from places on Cybertron to worlds travelled to on the way to Earth.

Laying down, Prowl let himself go. He was too exhausted to worry about trusting her or not while she did him this favour.

Climbing up on the berth and kneeling next to the prone form, she directed the heat nodes on her hands to activate. While they were warming up, she un-subspaced some of the masseuses wax she had kept with her and rubbed a little on her hands. Too much would make it too slippery.

Now that her hands were at the right temperature, she gently laid her hands on the hinges on the doorwings and gently dug her fingers in to rub at the sore joint. After a while, the doorwings relaxed and she allowed herself to move on. She glided her hands over his shoulders and down his back in a continuous rhythm, going from gentle to firm. A soft moan of contentment from Prowl made Tauri grin. There he was, the mech behind the emotionless facade.

Switching her method to rubbing small circular patterns on his sides and lower back, within a few minutes, Prowl had dropped into a peaceful recharge. Smiling at the handsome mech beneath her, Tauri slipped off the berth. Before exiting to the other berth room, she dropped a small kiss on his helm.

'_Oh Prowl, how I can feel what you really are, my striking mech,'_ Tauri thought fondly, before finally slipping into recharge.

.

**A/N: WHOA! Biggest chapter I have ever ever done! I love Prowl…..SQUEE! Anyhow, how did you guys like that action between Sunny and Muse? Yummy eh? And Capricornia and Drift seem to be getting to know each other a bit more too…**

**REVIEWS!**


	14. Genders

**A/N This is set a week after the last chapter. Elita, Chromia and Flare-up find out the genders of their sparklings, while others get into some lovin. You know my disclaimers. BTW, thank you to all my reviewers!  
**

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BTW: Sorry for the wait on this chapter, I've been busy with uni and applying for courses.

**To MissCHSparkles, I have taken your idea on board for the next few chapters, but with a few tweaks.**

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**Of Femmes and Sparklings Chapter 14 – Genders**

**.**

A week had passed with no incident…..well, mostly. Slingshot's release from the brig caused an uproar when he went after a femme again. This time it was Libra, who had been in an office trying to come up with a plan to rescue Flare-up but with no luck. Mirage had been the one to divert the flier's attention while Prowl had to come and throw him in the brig again. The rest of the Aerialbots told him on no uncertain terms that if he wanted to fly with them, he'd have to straighten up. Rosters had been sorted, and all the bots in the Autobot army were each content with the jobs they were assigned to do. The Neutrals had decided to expand a wing of the already massive base for their sole use, with no Autobots allowed unless expressly told so.

And now Ratchet was shaping up for Elita's first check-up. The femme commander had spent the week making sure all the femmes were settling in well here on Earth. Most were, with the exceptions of Delira, Scorpia, the Jewel combiner femmes and Quicksilver. Delira because she had a penchant to complain about anything that wasn't about her, and was (if possible) more vain about her paintjob than Sunstreaker and Tracks combined. Scorpia because she had been hiding from the world, brooding. The small flying femmes of the Jewel combiner weren't settling in because of an issue with their sparks that they wouldn't tell Elita about. And Quicksilver because she was so painfully shy.

But other than that, fine.

And now it was Elita's turn to be looked after by someone other than her sparkmate. As Elita walked into the medbay calmly, she smiled in remembrance at the _care_ Optimus had spent on her in their private soundproofed quarters.

"Elita. On time as usual," remarked Ratchet, retrieving his spark scanner as the rose-coloured femme sat on a nearby berth.

"Of course," said Elita pleasantly.

Holding the scanner over the plating above Elita's spark, Ratchet waited for the reading. The machine beeped softly, and Ratchet connected it via a USB link to a datapad. After a few moments of scrutinising the data, he frowned, and then he cursed. After a minute of continuous cursing and Elita's concerned looks, Ratchet collected himself and looked away from the data.

"So Elita, how would you feel if I said that you only have two more weeks before your sparkling is online?"

A pause.

Then, "You're joking Ratchet."

"Oh no I'm not. This must be a modification the virus has done to the reproductive programming. It's speeding up the rate that it grows," said Ratchet.

Frowning, Elita asked, "Is it harming it?"

Shaking his head, Ratchet replied, "No. The systems are normal for what we would see. But instead of splitting the sparks at the beginning of February, it will split just after the new year."

Elita's optics dimmed for a moment, and she put her hand over her chestplate as she thought about her unborn sparkling. Remembering the point of the check-up in the first place, she asked, "If I only have about two weeks left, Optimus and I must design the protoform today then. Has the spark energy told you the gender?"

Now Ratchet smiled a slight half-smile. "Yes. Congratulations, the heir to the Prime legacy is a mech."

Elita beamed. Thanking the medic, she walked hurriedly out of the medbay and to Optimus's office. She carefully concealed her side of the bond, not wanting to give away the surprise. As she passed mechs and femmes in the hallways, she had to fight not to squeal and shout out the world that she and her sparkmate were expecting a mech. Elita thought absentmindedly that maybe it was the parental programs that were making her feel this giddy with joy about the life within her.

Stepping into the office without knocking, she saw Optimus look up from his datapads at the interruption. Seeing it was her, he smiled lovingly at her.

"So how's the little sparklet?" the Autobot leader asked. Elita let the bond open and all her joy pulse between them.

"We're going to have a little mech Optimus. And he's coming in just two weeks."

Stepping out from around his desk, Optimus swept Elita up into a fierce hug. Then, placing a hand over her chestplates, he muttered softly, "I guess we'll have to welcome little Eylam a little earlier than expected. I've got a few minutes to spare from work. Would you like to pay Wheeljack a little visit?"

Smiling up at her mech, Elita said, "I'd love to."

Walking through the base hallways, Optimus couldn't contain his elation and span Elita in and out of his arms. Prowl, who passed them, looked puzzled at their actions, but seemed to find it amusing by the way he smirked and walked off. Elita let out little bursts of laughter every now and then, the happiness like a drug. Reaching the science lab corridors and reaching Wheeljack's door, Optimus pulled the rose coloured femme towards him, dipped her back and kissed her briefly before letting her up.

Upright, Elita hissed, "Optimus! Not in public!"

"I don't know, I think it would boost morale. It was kinda cute."

The commanders turned to see Wheeljack leaning in his doorway, mirth in his optics as he watched them. His blast mask hid his grin from the two commanders. Elita couldn't help but smile at the inventor. He always had a way of just being good-humored about most things.

"Well, come on in. I promise there's nothing explosive or remotely dangerous around. Ratch is stressed enough as is with me adding to it," explained Wheeljack, the commanders following, though Optimus had to duck his helm to clear the doorway. Leading them to a large computer terminal where he did his simulations, Wheeljack plugged in another device into it and waved for the rose femme and the flamed mech to sit.

Sitting down and spinning to face them, Wheeljack said, "Ratchet me a few minutes ago and told me to expect you. So….your sparkling. Any ideas what you want him to look like?"

"Like Optimus," Elita said without any hesitation.

"His frame and colouring or just the frame?"

Optimus stole a look at Elita, quickly communicating over their bond. Wheeljack waited patiently. They obviously didn't expect him to be so direct in asking. But he had to be. The protoform was needed in two weeks and he and Ratchet needed to build everything to specification before then, for if Elita had to carry the sparkling in her chestplates for too long after the little spark wanted to split, it would re-absorb into Elita's spark and cause her great pain. It was something no bot would wish on any carrier.

"The frame completely. The only difference would be colour. We agreed it would be best if we reverse the colours. Where I am blue, he should be red, and vice versa," nodded Optimus.

"Smiling again, Wheeljack got to work with the datapad he had plugged into his data terminal computer and pulled up the specs for Optimus's frame, down sized it to a sparkling setting and removed all the bulky armour. Then he added in colour. Instead of red flames, the sparkling had metallic, dark blue ones. Looking at the protoform, Wheeljack decided to make the faceplating look a bit more like Elita's. Optimus as he was now was a tad too serious for a sparkling. He gave the sparkling a higher cheekarch and gave him Elita's nose shape too. Hoping his commanders would approve, he transmitted the data to display on the terminal.

Elita gasped. The design of the sparkling was beautiful. There was the basic armour that sparklings needed to protect them from the environment around them and from play-fighting. Armour that would be up-graded later on. The protoform, was without doubt, cute. Reaching to hold Optimus's larger hand, she gazed on in content. Optimus thanked Wheeljack. But looking at the sparkling legs, he realised it looked too much like him and made a suggestion to the inventor. The next moment, the rectangular panels on the sparkling that were thigh guards on Optimus changed shape so that the tops became pointed, like the tips of a leaf.

"You've outdone yourself Wheeljack," commented Optimus proudly.

"I'm glad you agree sir, considering I haven't run this design program for over a thousand years. But I haven't forgotten one bit. It will be an honour to make the protofom for you sir...and ma'am," said Wheeljack. Again, thanking Wheeljack, the couple were about to leave the lab when the doors burst open and Chromia practically flew in. Spotting Elita, she grabbed her friend in a hug and span her around.

"Hey Elita? Guess what? Hide 'n' I are gonna have a little mech! Ratchet almost crashed from the news! He told us you were having a mech too! Isn't this great?" shouted the light blue femme happily, still spinning her commander around. Optimus could only stare at the whirling dervish that was the two femmes, when Ironhide appeared, puffing, at the door.

"Crazy femme. Ran down here as soon as she heard we were havin' a little mech. Congrats by the way Prime," huffed the weapons specialist.

"To you also," said Optimus, amused.

When Chromia had finally put Elita down, the femme commander immediately raced for the nearest bin and purged her morning energon. Her best friend winced….maybe she shouldn't of done the spinning thing. But this was so exciting! She and Elita had talked about this on the way to Earth. It was so surprising for it to happen so soon.

But still…."I'm sorry," said Chromia softly. Then, for some reason unbeknownst to her, she began to tear up, she knelt down beside her friend and gave her a hug.

Grimacing a smile, Elita let out, "It's fine….just….do that again and I will send to clean the wash racks after all the mechs use them."

Again, Chromia's mood shifted. "Aw, you're no fun. Now, Wheeljack!" Bounding over to Wheeljack's computer allowed Optimus to move in and steady Elita as she attempted to get up from her purge. Ironhide stomped past them in the now cramped space, muttering, '_crazy femme,'_ under his breath.

Leaving the workshop, Optimus mused out loud, "Let it never be said that there is a completely dull day on the Autobot base."

"No. Definitely not. I wonder if Megatron has as much fun as this?" inquired Elita wryly.

.

**Unknown, Decepticon base**

"What do you mean, that's all the femmes left? A paltry 51 Autobot and Neutral combined! Choose your next words carefully, little femme, because Lord Megatron does not enjoy the tales of liars," the gunformer demanded of the femme sitting opposite him at his desk, her bondmate standing menacingly behind her.

Flare-up breathed in before explaining again, "I told you, this is the only thing I am _willing_ to tell you. And I'm not lying. I saw the destruction of Airol with my own optics. Autobot femme intelligence later found out it was an order from Shockwave himself after much of your army left for Earth. We are all that is left of the femmes. Including the 7 you have here….sir….there are only 58 femmes left in the Cybertronian race." Flare-up had no idea where her courage was coming from. Maybe it was Barricade. Maybe it was her sparkling. Or maybe it was that little personality quirk that, once she got into a situation, she intended to see it through.

Deadly crimson optics narrowed at her. Seeming to settle an internal battle with himself, Megatron smugly said, "Well I can at least refute one of your claims: Shockwave is not dead as you thought you destroyed him. He is alive and well, as he contacted me a few days ago. It was his drone you killed."

Flare-up felt her spark plummet. '_Great. Victory…wasn't really a victory.'_

Barricade rested his hands on her shoulders. "Begging your pardon my Lord, but Flare-up is due in the medbay to find out the gender of the sparkling." The her roughly pushed the smaller femme up, practically forcing her out the door before the SD turned back to his leader.

"If I may make a request my Lord. Starscream has evidently mis-calculated some code. Our sparkling is now due in two weeks. Would you mind giving him a firm back-hand from me while I handle this…..thing?" spoke Barricade softly, respectfully.

Smirking, Megatron replied, "Why Barricade, it is not a request but an honour!"

Bowing, Barricade left the tyrants office.

However, once his faithful security director was out of the room, Megatron's faceplates abruptly changed from neutral to unfathomable rage. His fourth in command had deliberately gone against orders to destroy most cities except for select few. This included Airol. Contrary to what most Autobots thought, he wasn't stupid enough to want to wipe out the whole femme population. If he wanted to raise an army, he needed to allow those emotions of lust and love to run free in order to have sparklings on their side.

Shockwave had gone too far.

But then again, Megatron had always thought that if Starscream never usurped him, Shockwave would. He was far too logical and ruthless not to use it to take over the leadership of the Decepticons.

A plan formulated in the tyrants head, and he for Thunderblast to meet him in the office. Although a tough femme, she had a tendency to do _anything_ to get what she wanted. She would be perfect for this mission. This way, he could keep Shockwave under control and get rid of the sluttish femme.

As she entered, Megatron sighed. Thunderblast never wasted an opportunity to try to….and here he shuddered….seduce him. He hoped this wouldn't be one of those times.

"Hello, my Lorrrd Megatrrron," purred Thunderblast.

Rolling his optics, Megatron cut right to the chase. "I have a mission for you. You are to go back to Cybertron in Astrotrain and do anything in your power to make sure that Shockwave isn't attempting to go behind my back with his plans. He needs punishment. As his former flame, I'm sure you won't have any troubles with that."

The femme smirked and bowed, replying, "Of courrrse, my Lorrrd Megatrrron. I will make sure that Shockie gets the punishment he deserrrves."

Waving her out, Megatron said firmly, "Good. You are to leave tomorrow. You will stay with Shockwave with as long as you deem acceptable."

Shuddering again at the sly wink directed at him from the purple and orange femme, Megatron hoped he would be rid of her for the years to come. She was the only femme that tried to jump into his berth. The others were smarter. They knew he was their leader, their _Lord_, and he or they would never blur those lines.

**Barricade**

He caught up with Flare-up in the medbay, where Hook had finished the scan and was now making sense of all the data. The visored medic asked, almost off-handedly, "Do you think Megatron won't look so favourably on the two of you if you heard you were expecting a femme?"

"A femme? She's a little femme?" Flare-up wanted to confirm this so badly. She was looking forward to having a little femmeling.

"Yes," confirmed the medic. Something in Barricade's optics caught Hook's interest and he made a vague gesture to him. Saying something quietly to the happy femme, the two Con mechs went into a private corner. They could have used their comm. links, but they were wary of Soundwave. Speaking as quietly as he could, Hook whispered, "You have to get her out of here. It's too dangerous for her now. Megatron will want to see your rage at having a femme. After all, the pride of the family in Kaon is the first-born mech."

Dropping his helm forward exasperatedly, Barricade mumbled, "What do I do? Even given my rank, I'll be branded a traitor and executed for letting them go. The only way for that to happen is to let her be rescued when the time comes when the Autobots decide to come for her."

Hook paused before saying, "I guess you'll have to."

Stubborn pride entered Barricade's optics as he asked, "Why do I feel like I never want to let her go Hook? I've only known her for the past eight days and I just want to keep her safe for the rest of my known years. Is it un-Decepticon? Because I know that others will scoff at the mention of the word care."

"I can't tell you that. But as I said, it would be wise for her to leave soon. The news that you will have a femmeling will not be pleasing to command officers," the medic rumbled quietly. Leaving the medic in silence, Barricade took Flare-up off to their quarters. Not heeding her protestations at the slightly forceful movement, Barricade hurried there. If he was to let her go, he wanted all the time in the world. Because…he shuddered to think….the next time after she left the base to see her would be on the battlefield.

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**Autobot medbay**

Ratchet never usually drunk energon with a potency higher than low-grade during his shift. This was a rare exception. The hurricane that had been Chromia had left him feeling like Prowl on a bad day – on the way to a processor crash. But at least she had been showing one of the symptoms of carrying: mood swings. Elita had been showing another – a tendency to purge with sudden movement. At least both femmes would be due in approximately two weeks, and would be out of Ratchet's medbay.

Sipping his tiny ration of high-grade, Ratchet took the chance to daydream about Moonracer. He had given the thought of bonding with her a lot of play time in his processor in the past week. He loved her, it was true, and she loved him back. But the thought of going that extra step to have a sparkling was what made Ratchet slightly reluctant.

But the time for a decision needed to be made, and soon.

The medic was broken off from his thoughts by the arrival of Inferno and Firestar, another couple who – like himself and Moonracer – had been together for a long time. Regardless of their size differences, they had a relationship built on the need to rescue those in need.

"Afternoon Ratchet! How're ya doin'?" drawled the firetruck.

"I've been better. I assume you are here because you've sparked? And if so, congratulations. Firestar, get on this berth," grumbled the medic. Exchanging wary glances, the new sparkmates complied with the CMO's request. The red femme cheerfully jumped on the berth while Ratchet took his scanner and ran it over her chestplates.

"What gave us away?" questioned Firestar.

Ratchet snorted, "Oh please, everyone knows you two have been together for a long time. That, and the ridiculous grins you have on your faceplates."

Firestar laughed, "Well it's good to see your bedside manner is the same as always Ratchet."

Perusing the scanner data, Ratchet waved the happy couple off. "There's no problem with the bond or the sparkling orb. Get out and celebrate would you? And no high-grade for Firestar!" he called after their retreating backs. Wearily putting the spark scanner on a shelf, Ratchet First Aid to come to the medbay to take over his shift. He really needed to get out of his habitat before he destroyed it. As the peaceful mech stepped in, Ratchet ground out a 'hello, goodbye,' and stalked out, leaving a very confused apprentice behind.

Typing in his code faster than Blurr could run, Ratchet rushed to his berth and flopped on it, face down.

'_My decision is made. I need her in my life forever, because I simply and rationally cannot go on without her,'_ Ratchet thought, clenching his hands as he made the decision. His macho sense of pride wouldn't let him do this other then in private, and now with Moonracer.

There was a deeper reason for the chartreuse mech's reluctance. He didn't want Moonracer to feel the darkness within him when he lost a patient, or when he couldn't control his rage on the battlefield when times called for it. For a medic, he could be out for energon when he tried, and he was ashamed. Being slightly naive and innocent, Moonracer was to be protected from that, regardless. As an older bot and as medic, he had seen gruesome things happen to the Cybertronian race over the years. From deformities, to disease viruses, torture, and just pure emotional wretchedness. He would share all that and more when he bonded to her. Was it worth the risk?

Soft footsteps alerted Ratchet to another presence in the room. Lifting his head from the berth, he saw the familiar soft green plating of Moonracer's legs.

"Abusing that override code of yours again?" Ratchet asked acerbically.

Brushing off Ratchet's tone, Moonracer calmly replied, "I went to the medbay to see you and Aid said you left a bit brusquely. What's wrong?"

As she sat next to him and began stroking his back, Ratchet decided to take the plunge. "I want to bond with you."

Moonracer paused in her ministrations before remarking light-heartedly, "You medics ever do anything romantically?"

"This is serious though."

"Doubts again?"

"….More like….are you sure you know what you are getting yourself into Moonie? You don't know half of the things I've seen and-" his tirade was interrupted by the femme rolling him over on to his back and crashing her lips against his. After a moment, Ratchet leaned upwards into the kiss, relishing in the feel of her soft lipplates on his after a long time.

Breaking it, Moonracer breathed, "I want you as much as you need me. I love you. I want to bond with you. Let's do it."

Letting a smile escape onto his faceplates, Ratchet captured her lips with his once more.

If it was a risk, he was going to jump in with both pedes.

**A/n: Yes, there will be a naughty scene for this couple too! Hope you like!** **ALSO A NOTE ON SCREAMER: I know that most of you (55%) would like a Screamer/Skyfire. And you have provided me with brilliant reasons for that and I thank you very much. But you see, I think that Skyfire would find it really awkward, no matter how much he would love Starscream. Also, I need to do some character development on Megatron, and Starscream will be the perfect tool for that. I PROMISE that Starscream will be treated right though. No raping here. It also fits in with the planned sequel. **


	15. Success

**Okay, this is the prelude to Starscream's surprise ;) You know all my disclaimers and such. **

**.**

**Of Femmes and Sparklings chapter 15 – Success**

**.**

Ratchet smiled, and was actually humming as he bustled around his medbay, organising spare parts into draws and doing an inventory on them. He was so cheerful that Jolt and First Aid had given him odd looks all day. He and Moonracer had been bonded for two days and on his part, it was blissful. To finally feel her calm, bright presence in his spark after so long was amazing. Since they had done the deed, the medic had asked himself one question over and over.

_Why did they wait?_

He regretted they hadn't bonded sooner.

But now they had, and it was more than comforting or amazing. There were no words in English or Cybertronian to describe it. But it was one thing:

Success.

**

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**

**Prowl**

Prowl was steadily working his way through paperwork that had piled up since the noon they had arrived at Earth. But his processor wasn't completely on the reports. He was thinking about his bondmate.

While he was initially reluctant to see if they could make things work, he found he could safely call Tauri a friend at the very least, if not very slowly developing into something more. She had surprised him by insisting to stay in his spare room at least every second day, and he could always rely on her – along with Jazz – to keep him fuelled and well throughout the day and when he came wearily back to his quarters. Prowl found she was exceedingly easy to converse with, but found that she had a hidden stubborn steak. When he had entered his quarters a few nights ago, bone-tired from having to organise the datapads for permission from Earth's human officials on synthesizing energon for their use, Tauri had insisted on relaxing him with another massage. After countless refusals, he had finally given in. She had proven many arguments as to why he should, and I quote, 'lay down and yield already,' and Prowl's logic centre tiredly agreed. It had been a thoroughly enjoyable experience once again to be tended to in his sore spots.

But she was naturally affectionate, Prowl knew. When he took the occasional time to meet with Jazz in the rec-room over the past week, he observed her intently. She would go to anyone who was even slightly down, such as Bluestreak. He had no-one to talk to because Sunny, Sides, and Bee were all on patrol, and others weren't willing to listen to him at that time. Tauri had immediately gravitated to the young Praxian when she had entered the room and offered him a willing audial. Bluestreak had taken her company gladly and, after introductions, they had chatted for a few hours.

Another example of her affectionate nature had been to give gifts to all the femmes who had sparked so far.

Slipping another datapad onto the 'complete' pile and taking another out of the 'incomplete' pile, Prowl sighed. For once he wanted to get out of his office and forget about datapads. Although it was illogical to disregard his duty so completely, he really wanted to spend a little more time with Tauri. Though they always sought each other out at the end of the day, and sometimes tentatively brushed the others spark, they rarely had more time than that.

Suddenly an idea formed in his processor. If the move wasn't so irrational, Prowl would have smacked himself in the forehelm. How could he not have thought of it before?

He would introduce Tauri to Praxian courting rituals. Feeling more content having gained such a brilliant insight, Prowl re-read the report on evacuation procedures more enthusiastically than before, doorwings becoming a little less tense in the process.

It will be a success.

* * *

**Sunstreaker**

The golden twin sat next to Sideswipe in the rec-room, watching his brother experiment with the transformer-sized Xbox 360, playing a 'Need for Speed' game against Hot Rod. Sunstreaker watched, unamused, as his brother beat Hot Rod again for the third time in a row. Huffing, he said, "What's the point of a video game like this when we are practically the real thing?"

"Relax bro, this is fun!" exclaimed the red twin.

"Yeah….if you're winning," said a sulking Hot Rod.

Standing up, Sunstreaker waved, "Whatever." Instead of walking out, he slid into a booth opposite his artistic muse: Muse.

She narrowed her optics at him, harshly whispering, "Go away Sunstreaker."

"Why?"

"Because you think that after we kissed, you have a right to have me," she enforced. Sunstreaker let the thrill of her challenge flow over him. Leaning forward over the table, he got up right into her personal space before breathing, barely even speaking at all, "We reacted, and in more ways than the virus. You _willingly_ kissed me. And now you've spent the last week avoiding me."

Scoffing, the silver songstress replied, "A week and two days, but that's not the point."

"Oh? And what was?" the mech shot back snarkily.

"You were stalking me."

The frontliner let out a mirthless chuckle. "I wanted to follow up and have a drink with you. Called stalking is it?"

Leaning forward also, so that her helm was within an inch of his, she growled softly, "I am _**not**_ just some easy femme who will open up her panel for you at your command. You want me? Earn me. I am Muse, half of the band called Twin Trouble, and a damn fine femme warrior. Earn me."

Staring intently into her sapphire optics with his own smouldering ones, he said sultrily, "I plan too." Before she could pull away, Sunstreaker took her helm in his hands and planted a scorching kiss upon her lips. Muse melted into the kiss, before realising she wasn't supposed to and pushed him back into his seat.

Snarling at him, Muse stalked out the rec-room, leaving a slowly grinning Sunny. She'd be back. He knew it.

Success.

* * *

**Cancera**

The small grass green femme quietly dropped down into the sanctity of her room from the ventilation system. For the past week, while everyone was settling in, she had put her saboteur skills to work and had taken the opportunity to stake out the Decepticon base every night. It had only been pure luck that she had accidentally switched her blaster mode on the day of the battle to 'tag' mode. When that mode was on, she had specially designed shells that would stick to the bot that she shot it at and trace them to any location.

That being mentioned, it was only pure chance that, during the battle where they were shot at with the virus, she had given a desperate attempt to shoot Starscream down and had instead shot a tracer on him. One that he had not noticed.

So again, once everything was getting settled, Cancera took her chance.

And she had found the Decepticon base in the cliffs of Northern California, overlooking the ocean, and carefully concealed from prying human eyes. It was almost clever, but it had been ruined by the huge panes of glass dotted in the cliff.

Dropping onto the berth, Cancera sighed. It was tiring having to be _so_ careful. She still had no weapons and had lost some panelling on her abdomen, and therefore had to be extra cautious when sneaking into the Con base in order to get the layout. But nevertheless, the extra caution had been worth it. She knew where everything was, including security traps, where each mech or femme slept and their routines – even all their passcodes. And in the process, she had discovered Flare-up doing safe and well, which had highly surprised the femme saboteur. She had happened to glimpse the small, motorbike femme curled up with Barricade, who she had deduced to be her bondmate.

And she had also located Starscreams quarters.

For the first time that day, Cancera let a grin cover her grey faceplates. While not a vengeful femme by nature, she felt that turning the tables on Starscream was what he deserved.

Letting herself drop into recharge with a mental note to make sure Capricornia wasn't working so hard, Cancera knew her personal mission was accomplished.

Success.

* * *

**Scorpia**

The youngest Zodiac sister quietly crept back into her room. She really didn't want anyone to talk to her, and had hardly talked to any of her sisters, save for Capricornia, in the past week. She had wanted to be isolated. Although she was being immature, she didn't want to see any mech until she was comfortable enough in her own dermal plating.

To be honest with herself, she was freaking out. Not being one of the most socially talented femmes meant that it would be harder for her to really connect with other bots, much less mechs as potential love interests.

So wrapped up in her thoughts, she didn't notice that her door was unable to close, and turning back at the soft clanging noises she spotted the source of the disturbance. A wrapped gift box was preventing the door from closing. Warily going back to the door and peeking around it, the black and orange femme saw no-one. It was odd, considering she was _sure_ that there had been no one behind her. Picking it up carefully, she spotted a gift tag, which read:

'_A place you should have been,_

_From an admirer'_

Frowning in puzzlement, Scorpia opened the gift, revealing a 3D coloured holo of the prestigious Cybertronian Ultimate Racing Circuits. A small grin developed on her lips as she gazed at the holo of the circuits dizzying turns, terrifying straits, and antennae-raising loop-the-loops and chicanes.

Glancing about the corridor, she hoped that the gift had been from Blurr, the racer she had met only once, and briefly. It gave her hope, that maybe, she wasn't that socially bad as she thought.

Feeling a pang of disappointment the mysterious gift had no claimer, Scorpia retreated back into her room.

Hearing the door shut fully, white faceplates peeked around the corner to make sure that his gift was accepted. Seeing nothing in the corridor that housed the Zodiac femmes, Blurr let out a small whoop of achievement. To be silent and quick in placing the gift at her door after he spotted her passing by the armoury had been tricky, but he had done it. He thought she would enjoy the gift, seeing the way she seemed to love to race.

Smirking and heading back to his room next to Drifts, Blurr sped along happily. Maybe, just maybe, they could get to know each other really well.

Regardless, the gift-giving had been a success.

**

* * *

**

Drift

Watching from the doorway of the training room, Drift had to wonder when Capricornia would a) notice him, and b) finally give the poor drones a rest. Having locked the door to prevent Ironhide and Chromia from barging in from the outside, where they had been loudly complaining that somebot was hogging the training room, Drift couldn't help but feel both feel exasperated and admiring of the whirl of aggressive purple as she fought hand-to-hand with each drone that came her way.

While he knew he would be feeling aggressive if he was in her place, it was still no reason to keep the training simulator to herself for three hours.

Silently stepping over to the control panel, the white and red mech cleared his intakes as he shut down the training program, causing Capricornia to turn toward him, scowling.

"You've gotta stop doing that," the femme panted lightly, slightly tired by her strenuous attacks.

"And you have to give it a rest. You are so overheated from sparring that your metal is pinging," pointed out Drift. Exhaling, Capricornia checked her chronometer, and started, shocked that she had been sparring for that long. Nodding tiredly, Capricornia trudged out of the room, giving passing apologies to the trigger-happy couple waiting impatiently outside. Drift followed, glad he had stopped by the rec-room to collect the couple of cubes of energon he now had in his subspace. He knew that Capricornia's systems would catch up with her soon and start screaming for more energy and rest.

"What brought this on?" he asked off handedly.

Snorting in an undignified way, Capricornia said shortly, "Frustration."

"About?" questioned the Ultimate Areo when no other answer was forthcoming.

"Oh, let's just see," the femme bit back sarcastically as they turned towards the Zodiac femme corridor. "Virus, datapads, Sagittari, idiotic Cons. The list goes on."

Eying her out of the corner of his optic, Drift smirked. Capricornia was cute when she was angry. "Go on," he mentioned.

Sighing, Capricornia conceded. "Sagittari always likes to pass most of her datapads down to me. She always uses reasons like 'you are so much better than me at them, and faster too!' and 'Capricornia, we both know who out of the both of us is the more responsible one' and others. Today I just got sick of the work I had to do and just stormed into the training room."

"Why aren't you leader of the Zodiac sisters then? If you are the more responsible femme, why is Sagittari the leader?"

Arriving at her room, the femme weapons specialist palmed open the door and settled herself on a couch with Drift next to her at a comfortable distance. Once sitting, Capricornia explained why. "Don't get me wrong Drift, she's a great leader when times call for it, such as in battle, and in the more serious situations she can curb her wild and carefree nature. But it's in the little, tedious things. Such as datapads, making sure we are all ok after battle. Not just Ariea, who is her best friend, but all of us. Unless I'm injured, whenever we'd get attacked in space, I'd always visit in the medbay of the ship. Sagittari only goes for Ariea and me."

Leaning back in slight surprise, Drift said "Harsh."

"Yeah," Capricornia agreed tiredly. Picking up on the weariness of his femme-friends vocalizer, Drift retrieved the two cubes of energon from his subspace. Letting her mouth quirk in a tired smile, the purple femme thanked the swordmech and took a deep draft of the drink, closing her optics. She didn't realise how much her systems had needed it until she had taken her first swig. She relaxed into her couch, savouring the feel of the liquid flowing down to her tank.

Opening the shutters on her cerulean optics, Capricornia found herself staring directly into Drifts own light blue ones, closer than they had been before. While she had been drinking, Drift had sidled closer so that their knees were just barely touching.

Finding herself to be too tired to demand what in the pit he was doing, Capricornia asked "What?"

"I don't usually give compliments superfluously," explained the swordsmech, leaning nearer, "But I can't get tired of watching you. You are just so much more than many other femmes I've known."

"That's not too superfluous," commented the femme.

A side grin. "For me. I rarely give them at all."

There it was again, thought Drift. The same burning curious intensity that she had stared at him with when they had been discussing their pasts in the rec-room just over a week ago. Feeling a little daring, he brought his hand up to caress her smooth white cheekplating. Tilting his head to the side a little, he whispered, "If you don't want this, say the word."

Capricornia still stared into him, noting how their proximity was closing by the second. Darting a glance to his lipplates, Capricornia was still slightly uncertain. '_What have you got to lose?' _muttered a little voice in the back of her processor. Exhaling, she stayed still as Drift closed the distance between their lips and pressed a chaste kiss onto hers. Shuttering her optics, Capricornia pressed forward, giving unspoken consent to continue. Drift reached up with his other hand to wrap around her waist and pull their bodies flush with one another, causing Capricornia to involuntarily gasp and allow Drift's glossa to play with hers.

The white and red swordsmech grinned into the kiss and playfully attacked the femmes mouth, making her reciprocate. He was just about to slip backwards down onto the couch when Capricornia pulled away and her joyous, blissful expression was gone.

Shifting uncomfortably, Capricornia said, "Pardon me, but…I felt you slipping down and thought it was too fast."

Bashfully – for once in his life (what was it about this femme? he wondered) – Drift scratched the back of his helm and agreed, "Yes. And you need the recharge….so…..ah…..I'll just leave you to it." Drift turned to leave but was stopped by Capricornia's hand on his wrist.

"Hey. It's ok, you didn't do anything wrong," Capricornia said, letting her guard down a bit more and allowing a softer expression to come across her faceplates.

"Yeah I know. But…you do look tired. Recharge, milady," he added playfully, "and I'll let that older and less responsible sister know where you'll be for the next few hours."

Walking into her berthroom, Capricornia smirked over her shoulder and said, "Thanks Drift. See you later."

Stepping out of the Zodiac femme corridor, Drift walked with a smirk on his face.

His first kiss with Capricornia had been a success.

* * *

**Wildside**

"What the heck are we stopping by here for?" asked Beta, white and green helm canting to the side to see why Wildside was rummaging through some boxes at the bottom of a small storage closet. Leaning back on her kneeled heels, the black, green and gold femme grinned up at her companion.

"Those Corvette brothers asked me if I could come and get some paint for them. When I asked why, they said for a prank. I said only if I could perform it with them. So, here we are!" she laughed.

Frowning slightly, the Eos convertible asked, "So…why am I here?"

"Back-up and look out."

"Thanks for letting me know earlier."

"Anytime!"

"….you know Wildside, I was actually for once being sarcastic," smiled the shorter femme, quirking both eye ridges in amusement. As the taller femme stood, she shrugged, her laughter becoming a cheeky cackle as she held up the bucket of paint.

"My bad. C'mon, lets go before one of the command officers catch us," said Wildside, skipping away. Beta followed, if only not to be caught with another femme who had a large can of paint that spelled, 'blush pink' and was giving said paint can to the twins. As they jogged down the hall, the wild femme called out "SUCCESS!"

**

* * *

**

Jazz

Hitting the door chime, the silver mech bounced happily on his heels, charming grin displayed for all to see if they happened to walk by. As the voice within called 'It's open," Jazz jiggled with excitement as he opened the door. Bounding up to the desk, he greeted, "Heya Prime!"

The Autobot commander fixed the smaller mech with a look of amusement before replying, "And what brings your joyful presence here before me today?"

Visor flashing in a wink, Jazz pseudo nonchalantly drawled, "Well, seein' in the drama of the past few weeks an' all, Ah was thinkin' about havin' a little celebration week of sorts. Y'know, introduce all the new bots to the Earth an' human cultures an' stuff like that. How to not step on 'em would also be included!" he wheedled.

Optimus turned the idea over in his mind, considering the pros and cons of the request before nodding. "Fine. But not for another few days." Seeing Jazz's triumphant fist-pump, the larger mech cautioned, "Jazz, if a bot doesn't want to join in the events you plan, don't force them please. Also, it would be good if you put an…event list of sorts in the rec-room and their locations."

"Cool. Thank ya kindly Prime," Jazz 'winked' again and sauntered out of the room. Shaking his head and chuckling, Optimus hoped that he wouldn't regret the decision to turn Jazz loose.

Outside of the office and pumping the air with his fist again, Jazz began humming…Success.

**

* * *

**

Aquaris

Scanning over the calculations and symbols showing up on her data screen, Aqauris wished that Picyries was here with her to take this final step, but her younger sister was on a badly needed break. They had been working almost non-stop during the day, hardly socialising with anyone else save for themselves and whoever wandered into Picyries lab. Virgo had been immensely helpful in constructing the codes needed for the virus to work effectively and as pain-free as possible. But all that hard work could be ruined if the nannite mixture didn't accept the coding. The mixture was needed, for it would be nigh on impossible to inject the coding using a usb-like link without Starscream noticing. If they injected it, it would be easier, because there was a specific line in the back of the neck built for medical purposes on all frames. It did not have any warning sensors.

Taking a deep vent, the aqua coloured femme initiated the program to integrate the mixture and multiple lines of coding. Amber optics waited with baited breath to see if anything would go wrong.

A message popped up on the machine and gave Aquaris an overwhelming sense of relief.

:_**Virus and Nannite – interaction complete:**_

_**:Status – Interaction successful. Mixure ready for completion:**_

Slumping back in her seat, Aqauris allowed herself to bask in the moment of such a difficult scientific achievement. So far as she knew, no one had done mech to femme transformation in millennia, and for her, Picyries and Virgo to succeed with the task and _also_ for the coding to interact with their own virus and nannite mixture…well, least of all, she hoped that Starscream could grow to appreciate all the hard labour they had put in to get their retribution.

Smiling to herself at the thought of a femme Starscream, Aquaris could not think of anything else but their success.

.

**A/N: Yes, I'm turning Starscream into a femme in the next chapter, but it might not be up for a week. I got lots of other stuff going on, and I think most of you (if not all) can appreciate that.**


	16. Pulling off a plan

**Hey guys! This is it! You all know my disclaimers. And I hope you like my codenames for the bots on their mission. A shout out to all my reviewers, I could just kiss all of you for the response to my story. Sparkling gestation updates: Day 12/13 Elita and Flare, Day 11/12 Mia, day 4/5 Firestar and Moonracer.**

**New question for my reviewers: Should Hot Rod or Springer be with Arcee? I'm thinking Hot Rod, but if someone wants to point out why that is so doomed to fail go ahead, I love hearing about them ;)**

* * *

**Of femmes and sparkling chapter 16 – Pulling off a plan**

.

Elita-1, the femme commander of the Autobot forces, sparkmate to Optimus Prime, was feeling slightly Decepticon-ish. She had never, in the history of her lifestream, approved a plan so vengeful and creatively so. And the worst part was she thought it was rightly deserved. If something was to be done to deliver a warning against harming her own and other femmes sparklings, it would be the slagger that got them into this mess. Starscream. But the decision still rested heavily upon her. She was a leader, and this action was distinctly selfish on the part of all the femmes. She was meant to seek a way to end this ignominy in another, seemingly less petty way. To promote the Autobot cause which she so heartily believed in.

But still….

They had never sought revenge like this before. Like a piece of elastic that has been stretched too far and will eventually snap, so had Elita's seeming sense of patience in the battle against her own fury at the indignity suffered. So she had inevitably sank to the same level that Starscream currently inhabited and would so continue to sink.

Looking at the three femmes in front of her, she also knew that she could be sending one of her femmes to their death. A shadow of doubt clouded her bright blue optics as she studied her femme weapons specialist, saboteur and medic. They were all silent, waiting for further orders, completely trusting in their devotion. The zodiac femmes had not been with them long in a Cybertronian's measure of time, but they had become dear comrades to her and she knew that she would never forget them, regardless of their personality quirks and features, nor their blue tattoo underneath their left optics. They were as devoted to her as they were to their cause.

Capricornia then spoke, breaking the uncertain silence. "If we are to complete this mission, we need Jazz. Our comlinks won't work this far out of the base and we will need a mech. Jazz will be perfect. Libra advised us so before she came here."

In some surprise, Elita asked, "She already formed the plan before you came here for approval?"

Aquaris nodded, "Yes. Once I finished the virus, Cancera came into my lab and told me where she had been for the past week and what she had discovered. We then woke Capricornia for she, as weapons specialist, is the best equipped. After that, we visited Libra who had been trying to tactically apply a plan for Flare-up's rescue. With the additional information, she was able to formulate a plan with a 91.43% chance of being successful, which is the best result."

Leaning back in her chair, Eilta curiously tilted her head to the side as she read between the lines. "Why not go to Sagittari, your leader?" But inside, Elita knew of the dissent that was between the Zodiac femmes. She suspected that all the Zodiac femmes would rather Capricornia as their leader, save for Ariea and Sagittari herself. The stony silence confirmed more evidence to the jigsaw puzzle.

"She's busy," supplied Capricornia. When no more information was forthcoming, Elita nodded and said, "Fine. Let me know in an hour who is going on the mission and the complete plan, including maps of the Decepticon base. After this mission, we will allow the base position and information surrounding it to be given to Optimus and Prowl to feed into Teletraan." Centering her gaze on her saboteur, Elita's stare became firmer. "Cancera, while you have done a superb job of the intel., you will receive disciplinary action for going to enemy base without any back-up or commander knowledge. Clear?" The silent grass green femme nodded at the command femme.

"Dismissed. And please…be careful," Elita ordered, voice softening at the last part. All the femmes saluted and walked out of her office.

Once again, the feeling that something was going to happen sank it loathsome claws into her processor. Shaking her helm, the rose coloured femme rubbed her chestplates, feeling the little spark within her begin to respond. It pulsed with hers happily. Smiling gently, she looked down at the memo in her hands.

_Elita,_

_I have some good news. Jazz is planning a little celebratory 'Welcome_

_to Earth' program. I hope it will bring some comfort to the femmes._

_But then again, we never know with Jazz._

_~o~_

_On another note…I love you. I can't wait till we hold our son._

_Yours always, til all are one,_

_Optimus._

Sending a pulse of affection through their bond and receiving one back, Elita thought, '_I can't wait either.'_

* * *

**Capricornia**

Walking into her youngest sisters room, the purple femme hoped she made the right decision in the team she was taking. Cancera was more than the obvious choice, due to her acquired knowledge of the Con base. Leo-Rah too, because she was so adaptable. Scorpia however…

In the time that she had known her little sister, she had never seen her act so level as she had in the past week and a half. Although secretive about her emotions, Scorpia did have a habit to be temperamental, however she had not been as such recently. She had been uncommonly too quiet and had only seemed to seek her company. Canting her head to the side she observed the slightly smaller black and orange femme as she lay lethargically on her berth, looking at a holo of the best racing circuit of Cybertron.

"Never knew you had that before," Capricornia remarked casually. Scorpia immediately bolted up from her position so she was kneeling upright on the berth. Sharp blue optics relayed their surprise at having being startled.

"Relax, I'm not condemning you," said the older femme, moving to sit beside her sister to admire the holo.

Shrugging, Scorpia replied, "A secret admirer. I think I know who though."

Curiosity piqued, Capricornia asked, "Really? Who?"

"The racer. Blurr. On the first day he raced me and said he was impressed with my speed."

Optics becoming shrewd, Capricornia debated whether she should let Scorpia know of the lean blue racer's definite interest. Deciding to put the matter to the side for now, the purple femme went on to business. "I'm conducting a mission into enemy territory. Specifically, their base. I want you on the team."

"Payback time?" Scorpia's expression turned gleeful.

Smirking back, Capricornia said, "You betcha." Patting her knee and going to rise, Capricornia found herself in a crushing hug, looking down to affectionate blue optics, Capricornia embraced back, sighing "I wish I had known you when you were a sparkling. I would have looked after you so much better. All of you."

"I thought it was Cancera's job to be the mother hen," joked Scorpia.

"Ah, there's the sense of humour that's been hidden for a while. But while Cancera…and Tauri are the mother hens, you are all my responsibility as younger sisters," said Capricornia, gently pushing out of, what she knew, was a good luck hug from Scorpia. Serious now, Capricornia un-subspaced two gleaming dark orange energon daggers, and handed them delicately over to Scorpia, saying, "I believe these are yours. You are going to need them. You are going to be the one administering the virus in all its entirety to Starscream."

Again looking up in astonishment, Scorpia asked, "Why me?"

"Because you are the assassin on our team and therefore the most silent, apart from Cancera. But she is going to be in the ventilation system as our lookout and our guide. So the other option is you. The _only_ other option," she added, finality and direction in her tone. Scorpia nodded her assent to the mission.

Smiling and giving a sisterly caress to Scorpia's helm, Capricornia made for the door. Stopping at the doorjamb, she curved her head and said, "We de-brief and then depart tomorrow morning at 0300 hours. Get some good recharge time in." And left.

Ideas of revenge satisfied, Scorpia leaned back on her berth, playing her fingers absent-mindedly over the daggers. A secondary plan was forming in her head. She knew it was foolish. She **knew**. But that didn't stop her processor flashing images in the forefront of her CPU. Oh, if she could pull this off, the revenge would be better than _anyone_ could bargain for.

**

* * *

**

Picyries

Looking up as the door opened, the midnight blue femme grinned at her older sister. "Aquaris, congratulations on the success," she greeted cheerfully.

"You mean our success," corrected the aqua-femme kindly. Seeing the edges of a canvas peeking behind the small bulk of Picyries body, Aquaris asked, "What are you painting?"

A cheeky smirk replaced the welcoming grin as Picyries moved back, letting the image do the talking. Aquaris scanned the picture. Once. Twice. And then, seemingly losing control, she fell onto the ground laughing so hard that tears of coolant streaked her faceplates as she helplessly gave into the mirth that had appeared at the painting. Panting out between laughs, Aquaris said, "Oh….you…should…..haahaha….put that in the rec-…room for…..hehehe…all to see!" The impish grin on the pale grey faceplates remained as the femme scientist explained, "Well, I know you were itching to go on the mission, but I know you didn't get picked, so I thought I could give you what you were wishing to see."

The picture was, in fact, a depiction of what the femme Starscream would look like. She had a comically large head, and a tiny, stick-thin body with the curves for definition as breastplates and aft. The heels of the thrusters were lengthened, making it look like human 'high heels.' The dark grey faceplate was twisted in outrage with a speech bubble: "How dare you look at me like that! I'm a mech, I tell you!"

Struggling to get up off the floor, Aquaris let out a weak chuckle every so often, tired suddenly by her joyous laughing fit. Looking into the scientist's cheeky emerald optics, Aquaris laughed sincerely, "You just made my whole day. The creation of the virus is nothing compared to what the end result will be."

Going back to the image to finish off some minor details, Picyries said, "Anytime sis, anytime."

* * *

**Next day, 0330 hours – after briefing.**

The femme team, along with Jazz, was armed and ready. Maps and plans in their subspace, along with a few bladed weapons Capricornia had tucked in the far reaches of her own sub-space, were all the femmes needed. Scorpia had what Aquaris had nick-named "Starscream's surprise," along with three extra vials of the injection, just in case the current vial of virus coding and nannite solution would break. There had also been a small package of Elita's that she had requested be left for Starscream at the briefing, before she had bid them the best of luck. Save for their current team, the femmes, and Optimus Prime, no-one knew at all of the top-secret mission. Skyfire had been very obliging in transporting them, holding the smallest of the small grudges against Starscream. The large shuttle mech had been hurt too many times by his one time friend to ever completely and fully forgive him. Although it pained him that the femmes were driven to this, he considered it not his business.

"ETA 5 minutes. Hope you don't get damaged," Skyfire said calmly.

Jazz smirked, psyched he was on the mission. "Don't worry big guy, we'll be out before your turbines cool."

"I surely hope so. The longer we stay in there-" Capricornia was interrupted by a smirking, feminine voice.

"The more chance we have of being caught. We know," said Leo-rah, who, like Jazz, was amped up for 'bodyguard' duty during the mission. "I think you worry about stuff too much Cap. We'll be out before you know it. Especially when we have a femme who is also our sister who also happened to completely map out the Con base. Chill."

Glaring exasperatedly at her younger sister, Capricornia refrained from scolding her. It wouldn't do any harm to her, for her self-confidence levels were always through the roof. Jazz snickered at the yellow and brown femmes words, enjoying her banter. Cancera and Scorpia sat, silent, but for completely different reasons.

A red light flashed as Skyfire's voice echoed around them, "Opening up the hatch. Jazz, comm. me for exit."

"Sure thing. Come on femmes, cowabunga!" Jazz yelled happily as the hatch opened and he jumped out, engaging his parachute. Leo-rah joined him, giggling madly, while her three sisters watched bemusedly before they too jumped out. Landing safely and undetected on the cliffs, they packed their 'chutes, before silently moving into position. Cancera would be inside the ventilation hatch, moving silently above them while she communicated on a private and secure comm. link with her sisters.

Leo-rah and Scorpia were to go to Starscream and administer the virus and make for the exit, where Jazz would be waiting, 25 feet down the cliffside where there was a rocky shelf big enough for all of them. While those events unfolded, Capricornia would undertake a slightly harder part of the mission: she would be stealing Flare-up away from Barricades quarters. Due to Cancera's observations, she knew there were no cameras or listening devices in the SD Con's room, and that also it appeared that Barricade was Flare-up's bondmate. The main thing was to get out ASAP, before Swindle – who was on monitor duty – would look up from his datapad of contraband items and view them on the screens.

.:Ok femmes, I'm in the hatch. Your entrance point is through the hatch I just jumped down, but the first vent you see, go down through that:.

Jazz went off to await their signal, while the femmes did as Cancera directed. Capricornia thanked Primus that she, as the largest transformer on the mission, was able to fit in the vent. Dropping down silently from the ceiling, she found herself in a grey hallway dotted with Decepticon insignias. Sneering at the purple mark (a purple a far cry from her own lustrous royal shade), she made sure that no-one was about as she and her sisters crept onto a far wall, out of sight from a security camera. Their comms burst to life again, Cancera now adopting their mission names.

.:I see you. This is the command hallway, which is why I picked this point to get in. Easy. WPB, Barricade's suite is left down the hallway, third door on the right. Star and Sting, Starscream is the second on the left:.

.:Gotcha Crab:. Leo-rah replied, holding the machete in her hands with ease, Scorpia moving ahead of her down the hallway. Scorpia, however, had established a private comm. link herself with Cancera and transmitted .:Where are the Con femmes? Near here?:.

.:So this is what I was reading from you in the shuttle:.

.:This is a separate plan of my own. I know I'm probably going to be brigged for it, but I need to:.

.:And I can feel you do-:.

.:Mother Hen:.

.:-but is this wise? It might provoke even more retaliatory actions against us. You are un-armed save for your daggers, and while you may be our assassin, we have no guarantee that they will not boot up from recharge.:.

.:Just send me the co-ordinates. And stop worrying about me. This needs to be done.:. Scorpia replied tersely. Once receiving them, Scorpia realised Leo-rah had successfully input Starscream's code that Cancera had transmitted to them earlier, and was now skulking into the room. Hurriedly following, Scorpia un-subspaced the packages she was to 'deliver.'

.:I'll stay here:. said Leo-rah. Nodding, and quieting her systems as much as she could, Scorpia sidled toward the only other door in the spacious quarters. Sliding open the door, ducking inside, Scorpia quickly turned to the berth, relieved to see that Starscream was recharging on his front, with his neck and wings exposed to the cool air of the room. Using a quick systems scanner, the black and orange femme ascertained that Starscream was deep into recharge.

Placing the red holo-recorder in Starscream's line of sight, Scorpia readied the virus coding, making the nannites activate. Flipping open the neck hatch like Aquaris had told her to, she deftly placed the tip of the injection needle and pressed down, making sure all the liquid had escaped.

Not wanting to be around for the transformation of Starscream of mech to femme, Scorpia tip-toed out of the room, hearing slight shuffling above her head that meant that Cancera was getting into her next position. Leo-rah as she walked out, she said firmly .:Don't follow me now. I have a separate part to complete. Stay outside the door and be alert, Star:. When Leo-rah looked as she was going to protest, mane panels flaring out, Scorpia shot her another obstinate look and gained reluctant acquiesce from the smaller yellow femme.

Speeding her way out the doorway and down the corridor, Scorpia kept her footsteps light and was silent like a panther.

Turning left at the end of the hall, then another, she found herself in the small femmes wing. There were 7 doors. Gaining the new codes from Cancera – who knew she couldn't stop this – she input into the first door. There was a figure she knew vaguely from Roulette's holo pictures. Shadow Striker, her older sister. The black, gold and blue paint gleamed in the dim light. The faceplates were slack, the body curled in a foetal position. Smiling grimly, Scorpia injected the virus into the neck hatch. As she was walking backward to the door, she froze as Shadow Striker roused slightly. Relief filled her being as the femme 'snored' through her intakes and settled again.

'_Traitor,'_ the youngest Zodiac thought vehemently.

Scorpia did the same to the next door, finding Flamewar, the fiery, confident femme who was also sleeping on her side, but purple insignia displayed proudly on her chest. Rounding around to the back of the cherry red helm, Scorpia took out her second-last injection and applied it. As she stepped back from the narrow berth, Scorpia cleanly got out and headed for the next door. _This_ was the femme she had been looking forward to the most.

Entering, Scorpia saw the jet black wings of Slipstream in a relaxed position, and knew that she would finish her objective easily. The purple highlights shone in the low light menacingly as she made her way over to the wide berth – needed for Slipstreams wings. Taking out the last injection – and regretting she didn't request more so that the 'Con femmes could **all **feel what she and the other Autobot femmes were – she slipped it in the neck hatch.

She should have known the mission was going on too easily. So when a red light that could only be cast from optics illuminated the wall in front of her, Scorpia was only-half surprised when a snarl of rage erupted from the femme and felt a heavy weight tackle her.

**

* * *

**

While the above events were happening

Seeing her sisters depart for Starscreams quarters, Capricornia confidently made her way down the passage to the room the third door on the right. The door, like all the doors, was nondescript, save for the prominent Decepticon insignia. Before she could ask a digit code appeared in the comm. link screen.

.:Thanks Crab:.

.:No problem WPB:.

Entering the code, Capricornia un-subspaced her spark blade. She sincerely hoped she would not need to use it tonight.

Entering and making her way to the berth room, Capricornia thought for just one second they were not in the Decepticon base. For there, cuddled up together in the middle of the berth contentedly in a picturesque domestic scene, were Barricade and Flare-up. Using her far from medically advanced scanner, the purple femme made sure that there were no visible signs of abuse from the enemy hands. Warily, Capricornia shook Flare-up to rise out of recharge. It took some more shaking and soft coaxing, but the small femme finally on-lined, all systems booting up and realising there was someone else in the room.

"Capricornia?" Flare-up asked in astonishment.

Hushing the femme, Capricornia whispered, "No questions now. We need to get out of here before someone discovers our presence."

"I still can't believe you are here. Who are the others?"

"Some of my sisters. We must move Flare-up!" Capricornia's urgent whisper went unheeded as Flare-up turned to look uncertainly at her recharging bondmate. Seeing the look, Capricornia surmised, "You like him….don't you?"

"He cares," Flare-up said simply.

Frowning, the femme weapons specialist said, "If that's true, you can apologise over your bond later. Let's go!"

Giving one last caress to the police con's faceplates, Flare-up half-heartedly rose and followed Capricornia out of the place that had been her home for just under two human weeks. Casting a fleeting glance over the room, she didn't notice Barricade's pained, resigned optics watching her. Knowing it was the best for her, Barricade forced his systems back into recharge, wishing, just once, that he was a Neutral.

Now in the hallway, Capricornia led Flare-up down to where Scorpia and Leo-rah should be waiting outside Starscream's room. Seeing only Leo-rah, Capricornia immediately felt a sense of dread.

.:Star, where is Sting?:.

.:I don't know, she babbled something about another part of the mission. She gave me her scary look:.

.:What part? This is it, cut and dried:. questioned the royal purple femme.

.:Sting is getting revenge. She's in the femme quarters. WPB, let Star take the package and deliver it to Tha Man, and go retrieve Sting. Crab out:.

Cursing softly once, Capricornia ran in the direction Scorpia had gone, not caring if her footfalls were not silent. Her intuition told her that the mission had been too perfect, and that something was bound to go wrong and that they were just _tempting_ fate. To be proved right was a terrible, sinking feeling. In another corridor now, she heard commotion coming from an open doorway and leaped through to find a sight she really didn't want to see on this mission. The Decepticon seeker femme, Slipstream, was on top of her youngest sister, tearing and pummelling the fragile backplates with one hand while the other held Scorpia's mouth shut so she couldn't call for help.

Scorpia was struggling violently as she entered, and when the older femme came into her view, the younger femme emitted muffled yells, calling for the purple femme.

"Shut up!" the evil seeker hissed. Raising her hand again to deliver a punishing punch, Slipstream felt a heavy blow land on her helm, the last thing she saw before off-lining was the black and orange femmes relieved expression. Capricornia was shaking with restrained violence above the downed femme as she hauled her youngest sister off the floor and over her shoulder in a fireman's hold, sheathing her sword to a case on her back – the hilt she had used to knock Slipstream off-line. Realising she had crossed a line, Scorpia tried to reach Capricornia over their sister bond, but was met with a wall of blazing anger…the same she had had when she had foolishly thought of this deviated plan.

In the protective embrace of her older sister, Scorpia sunk her head, all anger dissipating. She had thoughtlessly endangered her sisters and the mission with her determination to retaliate. Capricornia didn't need to say anything to know that she was disappointed in her younger sibling.

The halls were empty as they travelled to their exit, an escape hatch in the only storage closet near the officer Con quarters. Sliding down, they found themselves ejected out onto a ledge where Jazz was waiting for them, Leo-rah and Cancera had been lifted up into Skyfire, who was hovering above them.

"Hey, mission accomplished!" Jazz greeted, but was stopped short by the sight of rivulets of energon trickling down from tears in Scorpia's back armour, and by the obvious dents caused by a beating.

Anticipating Jazz's question, Capricornia ordered, "Never mind now. We're exposed, let's get back before some Con actually gets a clue."

Saluting jauntily, Jazz shot his grappling hook upwards, where Leo-rah caught it and secured it to a strong pole, allowing Jazz to pull himself and the remaining duo of femmes up. Once up, Cancera immediately began fussing over Scorpia, tutting over the injuries and tending to them with a field kit, as Capricornia sank down opposite Leo-rah and Jazz, who were discussing what Starscream would look like after his transformation.

As Cancera said to Scorpia, "That was foolish honey. You were lucky." Capricornia wondered if her youngest sister would feel that way after being de-briefed by Elita.

**.**

**A/N: There you have it folks! I turned Starscream into a femme! Next chapter: Aftermath. For Scorpia as well as Starscream. **

**If anyone is wondering what WPB stands for, it means WeaPons Bitch. You find out why in a later chapter. ;)**


	17. Aftermath

**Hey guys, whose ready for some Screamer screaming and shrieking? You all know my disclaimers.**

**Also a shout out to UltimateAnime12 – I was going over the reviews page and noticed you have reviewed FOR (almost ^^) EVERY SINGLE CHAPTER! So here's a big digital hug of recognition. And also to my other reviewers! I am noticing more regulars, so that's really great!**

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Of Femmes and Sparklings – Chapter 17 – Aftermath

**Back at Autobot base – Morning, 7am. **

"That was one of the most slaggin' stupidest glitching things you could have done."

The one sentence said by Aquaris and Ratchet at the same time made Scorpia wish she was still in the land of the unconscious. Unable to do so physically, her inner self curled up into a protective ball, wanting to wish the world way from her. Pain sensors triggered messages across her processor as the wounds on her back twitched with slight movement, muscle cables screaming in agony. Turning her head to the other side and opening her optic shutters, she was met with the stony gaze of her commander.

"I…..-I'm sorry," murmured the younger femme regretfully.

Elita's gaze was like two white-hot needles burning into her own optics. "Sorry wouldn't of cut it if one of your sisters had been hurt. Or if you had been permanently deactivated." If her gaze couldn't make Scorpia feel more guilty than she already was, then those words, said in that particular disappointed tone, made her fall into a deep abyss of shame and blame. Shuttering her optics again, she heard the rose commander say "I will assign your punishment once you are fully healed." And footsteps trailed off into the distance.

She felt Ratchet and Aquaris making sure that the weld on her back was holding. Ratchet was grumbling unintelligibly. But Aquaris wasn't saying a word. If Aquaris wasn't saying anything to her, she knew it was bad. Hearing the door opening again, Scorpia wondered who it was.

"Cancera is in the brig, so I'm here. Give me a few minutes Aquaris…please?"

Oh, Tauri. If it wasn't Cancera, it was Tauri. Not bothering to open her optics shutters, she just lay there while the moon-silver femme came over to sit by her bedside. Scorpia felt her sister reach out and run a soothing hand around her shoulders, away from the welds. It was a tactic the sharpshooter often employed when comforting other bots.

"It was rather silly Scorpia," the silver femme began gently. "And I know you are upset about the virus and we all are…but that is still no reason to inflict it on femmes who had nothing to do with Starscream's plan. And…I know this is harsh to say, but rather me than Elita," here Tauri let pity overtake in her tone and facial expression, "what about the sparklings they have? Do you really want some innocent sparkling to grow up amongst that Decepticon propaganda?"

'_Yes, let's just drive the dagger of disappointment deeper, shall we?'_ the wounded femme thought harshly to herself.

Feeling her youngest sister shift and shy away from her touch, Tauri sighed. Scorpia like this was almost impossible to talk to. Leaning down, and careful of the healing welds, Tauri felt that all she could do was give Scorpia a comforting hug. "Come and talk to me when you are feeling better. I'll even make those oil rust sticks that you like so much."

"Hmm…" Scorpia made the non-committal sound, just wanting her own solitude.

Smiling sadly at the black and orange femme, Tauri whispered, "Love you sister." Also embracing Aquaris as she left, Tauri strode out of the bay.

And as soon as her footsteps left, another came. Heavier, but sounding sure and graceful. As soon as the newcomer sat down, Scorpia knew exactly who it was. The crippling feeling of shame pressed down on her harder.

"I'm not going to tell you that everything is ok and that I'm not disappointed in you, because I'm not going to lie," said Capricornia, watching sadness overcome her youngest sister. "But I want you to know that, while I can sympathise with your sense of righteous anger, I cannot condone it. I can't also ignore you because of it. I can't condemn you as my sister, and I never would."

Scorpia reluctantly opened her optics to see Capricornia there, gaze neutral as she waited for a response. Sighing, the wounded femme said again, "I'm sorry. I really am Capricornia…for being such a disappointment to all of you…"

Venting exasperatedly, Capricornia leaned forward and grasped Scorpia's hand with her hand, proclaiming, "It's not _you_ in your entity that I'm disappointed in, but the actions while thinking in that black and white way of yours. Do not even _think_ that we want to shun you."

Smiling a small smile, Scorpia felt comforted by her sisters straightforward words.

"What am I going to do with you?" Capricornia asked herself out loud.

"Talk to me every time I do something ignited by my passions and love me like the good sister you are," replied the black and orange femme half sarcastically.

Chuckling, knowing Scorpia's normal humour was slowly coming back, Capricornia gave her an affectionate knock over the helm, before farewelling her sister and leaving the medbay as Tauri had done too long ago. Feeling lighter in her spark, Scorpia forced her systems into recharge so that she could heal and make it up to the sister who had rescued her from Slipstream's furious attack.

* * *

**Tauri**

Reaching her bondmate's office and striding in, Tauri saw Flare-up stand and turn to leave, Arcee helping her with a comforting arm around her crestfallen figure. Giving the sparked femme a smile as she left, Tauri focused her attention to Prowl, who was looking thoughtfully after the two femmes that had left. Sitting down opposite him, Tauri asked, "Any bad news?"

"Yes," said Prowl, doorwings shaking a little in slight irritation, "Flare-up revealed that in an interview with Megatron he confessed that Shockwave was not as destroyed as we had hoped. All the hard work and planning was inflicted onto a drone."

Shuttering her optics in her surprise, Tauri gasped, "This is going to kill Scorpia. She thought she had slipped the correct mech the last of her poison."

"Well," sighed Prowl wearily, "That's not all. Flare-up has definitely been sparked by Barricade and her femmeling is due at the same time as Elita's. And to add to that, she has become rather fond of him. It seems there is a decent Decepticon in their ranks. At least the only piece of information she let slip was the number of femmes in our ranks. It could have been worse."

Pausing for a moment, and then making a decision, Prowl lent forward over his desk, clasping his hands together as he asked Tauri, "But do you know what the strangest thing is Tauri?"

Shaking her head in a negative the silver femme said "No, tell me Prowl."

Bewilderment intermingled with the small irritation he was discreetly showing as the Praxian explained, "Flare-up tells me that Megatron actually ordered that Airol not be touched by Shockwave while he came to Earth. That is what astonishes me. After ordering to destroy other cities that had femmes and other innocents there…why Airol? It seems so obvious, but my logic glitch prevents me from thinking that Megatron does do some things compassionately."

"I think Megatron wanted Airol left alone because of the number of Neutral and Decepticon femmes that lived there. He wants sparklings to join in his cause from a young age," thought Tauri aloud.

"It does make sense in a common sense way, but not logically after all the cruelty the tyrant has displayed. There is an almost 97% chance that Megatron is incapable of compassionate actions after all he has done," frowned Prowl. Rubbing his chevron, Prowl got a blank datapad and began typing up a new report on Flare-up's information.

"I think I'm going to go after Flare-up. She feels lost without the mech she's depended on for safety for the past few weeks. I'll see you tomorrow after the party?"

Looking up, Prowl asked "What party?"

"Didn't you hear? Jazz is putting on a human holo-vid," replied Tauri.

Rolling his optics, Prowl said, "That little slagger. Anyway, before I forget…" Reaching down into a desk drawer, the chevroned mech pulled out a small package and handed it to a confused Tauri.

"Who's this for?" she asked, examining the silver wrapped package.

"You."

"Me? Aw, thank you Prowl," grinned the silver femme, mood lifting to incredible heights.

"Look up Praxian courting rituals before opening it though. Just so you know what you are getting into," said Prowl, going back to the report, an impersonal mask of concentration slipping over him. Tauri nodded, not caring if Prowl got business-like as she waved goodbye. She felt like dancing in the hallway, muscle cables in her body quivering with joy. It only served to push her further towards the realm of loving Prowl.

* * *

**Decepticon base – Starscream's quarters – 7am**

Starscream shifted under the berth's sheets, feeling uncomfortably hot. Frustratedly onlining at a time that was felt to be way too early, Starscream was stopped from the usual routine of onlining by spotting a bright red holo-recorder. Bright, **Autobot** red. Sitting up, Starscream felt….odd, but ignored it in favour of curiosity of the recorder. Switching it on, a holo of the femme commander's face appeared. Starscream snarled at it as she began to speak.

'_Good morning Starscream. I hope you have realised how cocky all you Con mechs are in not using better security codes and assuming no Autobot can spy on your so-called hidden base. If you look at your left turbine, you will see the reason we have been able to track you into your base. I would shudder to think what Megatron would say,'_ the holographic image smirked.

'_But let's get down to the real reason I have taken the liberty to do this recording. Now, as femme commander of the Autobots, I'd like to give you a little speech. First off, I know that we are all angered at the audacity of your virus. We know what we cannot do. Transform, use weapons that are integrated with our systems and have all our armour. But what we can do is get past this. Yes, we will have to bond, and yes, we all will have a sparkling. But we will not let the Decepticon's think that they can get us down. We know the gravity of the situation. And there is great news. Whoever you discharge energy to does not __**have **__to be your bondmate. You are free to love any mech you wish, as long as you create your sparkling.'_ Suddenly very, very confused, Starscream watched as Elita laughed, a feeling of horror overcoming as the realisation his processor was piecing together was made known.

Finishing laughing, Elita said pseudo-innocently '_Oh, I forgot to tell you Starscream. We turned you from a mech to a femme and slipped you the same virus you gave us._' Then her mocking face hardened. '_Don't you dare get retaliation Starscream. After this, you should know that the Pit hath no fury like a femme scorned.'_

As the holo video flickered out, Starscream looked down at his body in horror. He was slimmer than before, and his chestplates and cockpit were more prominent. Crimon optics brightened in shock. '_NO. No, no, no, no fraggin' way!'_

Leaping off the berth, Starscream raced to the private washracks in the room, where he had a large full length mirror. Stopping short, Starscream stared at what had once been a mechly body. His helm shape was still the same, but his faceplates were slimmer and more pointed, lipplates thickened to be more full and femme-like. Although the same height as before, he noted the slimming of his body, his arms slightly, and legs too…..and his feet! His turbines had lengthened, like human squishy female 'high-heels'. His waist was prominently slimmer, while his hips and cockpit and chestplates were rounded and curved.

He….no…._she_ was a femme.

And living up to her namesake, Starscream screamed. "**AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!" **Clutching at her own body, Starscream had a sick curiosity if even her interface components had been….re-arranged. Opening her panel and discovering that the conversion had been _very _thorough, Starscream let out another audio-shattering scream, faceplates morphing in her own horror.

Banging could be heard on her door now, and she could hear the furious voice of Megatron and the worried yells of her trinemates. Optics darting around, but knowing it was hopeless, Starscream wanted to cover herself completely, to cover her shame. The slam of a door cycling open at an unnatural speed drew Starscream's attention. Suddenly the washrack door opened, revealing an angry Megatron, an impassive Soundwave, and a worried Thundercracker and Skywarp. There was a sudden, disbelieving silence as Starscream stared, stricken, at the faceplates of her commander and comrades.

The silence stretched on as the mechs took in the form that was definitely Starscream. But a femme.

Then: "Starscream: mech. Error: Starscream a femme. Error: does not compute." And with that statement, Soundwave fritzed and static filled his vocaliser as his processor crashed.

"It was those slaggin' AUTOBOT FEMMES!" Starscream screeched, making his trine and Megatron wince. "THEIR DAMNED FEMME COMMANDER SENT ME A HOLO-VID CLAIMING THEIR RESPONSIBILITY! THEY MADE ME A FEMME!"

Not saying anything, Megatron spotted the holo-vid and activated it, watching the recorded message. The tyrants upper lip curled and he rubbed his fusion cannon as he watched Elita deliver her mocking message. At the completion, he looked at Starscream, who was grasping her upper arms, trying to shield the curvy, prominent cockpit that Seeker femmes sported to be more alluring to other mechs.

"You make a good femme Screamer. Much prettier than that glitch of a cousin of yours, Slipstream," said Skywarp, cheeky, somewhat lecherous grin on his faceplates as his optics did an image capture of Starscream to save in his databanks.

Starscream gave an outraged shriek, femme vocaliser making the sound even more high-pitched than she had done as a mech. Massaging his audios, Thundercracker rolled his optics and slapped Skywarp upside the head, muttering, "Nice one 'Warp."

Smirking at the furiously shaking femme seeker in front of him, Megatron said, "If you are done being an idiot, let's head to the medbay to see if the conversion has been completed and what other things the femmes might have done. I must say," rubbing his chin, Megatron briefly looked Starscream over, "the Autobot ingenuity has made me think about Elita. If I had known she was that cunning, I would have tried to sway her and her team to our cause."

"Fine! But Skywarp has to warp me!" protested the higher voice of Starscream.

"Aw, but why?" whined the black and purple seeker jet.

If possible, Starscream's optics glowed brighter in indignation as she stood ramrod straight and belted out "BECAUSE I'M YOUR TRINE LEADER AND THE DECEPTICON AIR COMMANDER AND SECOND IN COMMAND!"

"But you're a femme."

Before Starscream could damage their audios anymore with her shrieks, Skywarp lunged forward to grab his trineleader and warped them to the medbay, leaving Thundercracker to help Megatron with the task of hauling his TIC off the floor and to the medbay as well.

In the medbay, Hook, who was always there early as was his custom – his motto being "It's never too early for stupidity," was startled by the clatter of metal. His sensors detected two beings behind him, as swung around and promptly re-booted both his processor and optics, not believing what his visual relay was feeding into his processor. There…was Skywarp…helping up what looked to be a…_femme Starscream_. Shaking his head to clear it, he went forward. Obviously, it was up to him to sort out this mess.

"What happened?" he demanded, going into full medic mode and helping Starscream up into a berth.

"I was turned into a femme by the slaggin' Autobot femmes. Tell me it's fixable," said Starscream, just the barest hint of pleading entering her tone.

"I'll take a look. Give me a moment," Hook said gravely. The medic hooked up various devices into ports in Starscreams chestplate, arms, and hips, while also retrieving a spark scanner. Activating the devices, Hook watched as the data began uploading into a data terminal next to the berth, speeding down as more information gathered. When the sequences all completed, Hook ran the best of his medicinal upgrade programs as he took in all of the information, new design specs flashing in the forefront of his meta and surprising him with the conclusions that his program came up with.

Glancing grimly at Starscream, Hook said, "It's not fixable or irreversible. You are now a complete femme.

Instead of screaming again in her typical fashion, Starscream dropped off the berth and to the ground, holding her helm in her hands. Neither Hook or Skywarp knew how to approach the distraught seeker.

Knowing Starscream's scientific background would enable her to appreciate the extra factual information, Hook went on, "It seems that you even have the correct programming for a femme. Parental protection programs, able to receive another mech spark if you wanted to bond," Starscream shivered, "and it also seems that you have the status of Seeker-Regina."

When Skywarp and Starscream both gasped, Hook questioned, "Although I know the term, I don't know what it details. Could you please explain?"

"Dude, it means basically that Starscream is the Queen of the Seekers. Back in Vos, ages before the war, the Seeker-Regina was the ruler of Vos because she was the best flyer and also the most fertile femme. Not that there are many seekers now though…" shrugged Skywarp, still in awe. Starscream had a thoughtful look on her faceplates as she took in the information. Blue hands still shook slightly, but were subsiding.

"Interesting you bring up that last part about the Seeker-Regina being the most fertile femme," mused Hook. Before the seekers could question him, Hook said, an ironic smirk playing on his face, "The Autobots have given back the virus that you inflicted on them Staracream."

A beat.

"**WHAT!**" the red, white and blue seeker femme roared, pitch rising. Obviously, she had not recalled that part in Elita's message earlier.

Just then, Thundercracker and Megatron stomped in, dragging a limp and still off-line Soundwave. Carelessly hoisting his 3IC onto a berth, Megatron turned to his once mechly 2IC and his medic. "Well?" he demanded.

"Complete and utter transformation from mech to femme sir. However, Starscream cannot be anywhere near a battle."

"And why is that Hook?"

"Her weapons systems will not come online until she has bonded and had a sparkling. She has the virus," explained the medic somberly, head bowed in respect. With an abrupt heave of his intakes, Megatron started laughing. Not his usual, malevolent chuckling, but full blown laughter at the irony of the degrading situation. Starscream, who had been watching in open-mouthed disbelief, shrieked, "YOU FOOL! This is no laughing matter! I'm no longer a mech!"

"Oh, but Starscream, this is the perfect irony. But no matter now. Back to your chambers so we can deliberate about this," said the tyrant. Although serious, he thought the situation to be ironically amusing and it had started his day off well.

Starscream huffed and turned to leave when Skywarp taunted, "Cute aft Screamer, those Auto femmes were through."

Tackling her immature trinemate with an incomprehensible scream, Starscream's optics gleamed hotter than the fire's of the smelting pit's of Cybertron as she dug into Skywarp's armour. Thundercracker sighed before reaching to pry the furious femme off the black and purple jet, who was yelping "OW! Oy, it was a joke!" Nodding to Megatron and hoisting up his newly femme trinemate, the blue seeker walked out the medbay, heading to Starscreams quarters and dragging a petulant Skywarp behind him.

Shaking his head, Megatron said, "Hook, do you ever wonder how those three became a trine?"

"No sir. It almost goes beyond comprehension."

Turning to his medic, all amusement vanishing and replaced by a contemplative and serious air, Megatron said, "I can't demote Starscream like this – he…er…she will go more insane than this. Nor can I do what I did with Barricade's little Autobot and line each mech up to touch her chestplates – she will rip off their interface systems."

Taking the unspoken consent to speak freely, Hook suggested, "Starscream's processor has been untouched save for the necessary femme systems, so she can still plan raids, but no longer go out there. She can fly in bipedal mode, not alt mode, as she can't transform. Her null rays are useless until she bonds and creates the sparkling orb needed for the procedure." Walking over to a cabinet to put away the various scanners and devices he had used, the green and purple went on, "First, before Starscream can even get to that stage, she has to become comfortable in the femme body and become comfortable around the army as a femme. For once sir, Starscream is going to need your help."

Folding his arms, frowning, Megatron asked, "And why is that?"

Looking his leader dead in the optic, Hook said, "Because you will be the only one who can really protect her against the other mechs. We're Decepticons, sir. We are ruthless. And if a mech sees Starscream as an opportunity for some relief of the 'facing kind….well….she is defenceless with the null rays not functional. In addition to that, until Starscream proves herself to be a worthy Decepticon femme, her orders will not be followed by some. In those cases, Starscream will most likely appreciate your authority for once."

"The irony is never-ending," muttered Megatron.

"Indeed."

As the large silver leader was about to leave when the doors crashed open and a frantic and angered Barricade burst through, intakes heaving as he panted. "Have either of you seen Flare-up? She has disappeared from my quarters!"

Frown deepening, Megatron growled, "Barricade, I expected more from you that this femme of yours would vanish from your side on your own berth. Without you knowing."

Bowing his head respectfully, the security director explained, "Begging your pardon sir, but I should explain that my berth is reserved for myself and only myself. She was only on it when I had use of her…she slept on my couch. I didn't want her Autobot essence seeping into the covers permanently."

Narrowing his optics, Megatron grunted, before saying, "Then we have reason to believe the Autobot femmes that invaded our base last night took her with them. They turned Starscream into a femme while they were her also. Who was on the monitors last night?" the tyrant demanded.

"Swindle, sir."

Growling again, Megatron said, "That idiot has slacked off too many times due to his so called 'entrepreneur' personality and greed. He better be in his quarters." Stamping off, all previous signs of an agreeable mood gone, Megatron left with a murderous gleam in his optics.

After the noises of pissed-off footsteps faded, Hook tilted his helm and said "Pity. And the day started out so well for him too."

"Starscream a femme. Who would have thought?"

"Well Barricade, obviously the Autobot femmes."

The reminder of Flare-up hit hard in Barricade, noting the changed demeanor, Hook asked bluntly, "So you took my advice? She's gone?"

Nodding, the police Con said, "Yes."

"It's for the best Barricade. Even I have gotten tired of this war. We are no longer a 'good' influence," said Hook, rifling through commander personnel files to add the changes Starscream had gone through to hers. From the side of him, he heard Barricade mutter, "I guess you are right. Now. Starscream. How bad is it?"

An evil smirk crossed the medics face. "Bad enough that any revenge you wanted to get on Starscream has been fulfilled to the fullest. She even has the virus your own bondmate was inflicted with."

Smiling, but with no true joy at the schadenfreude, Barricade nodded, "Ah well."

* * *

**Slipstream**

After booting up to a large dent in the back of her helm, the cold femme seeker broke into one of the various labs the Decepticon base had an used what little medical knowledge she had to find out what the little Autoscum had injected on her. Slipstream had conditioned herself to torture, and in doing so, had gotten sensors placed in the medical injection point in her neck. She wasn't stupid. This was the _Decepticon_ army for Primus's sake! Of course someone might have it in their processors to foolishly try and inject her with some substance that would muck around in her energon lines. That was how she had caught the black and orange assassin unaware. But the damage had already been taken.

So in the lab she had gone, and analysed the substance to the best of her ability. She had surprisingly understood it at the same virus that Starscream had composed to wreak on the Autobot femmes. Knowing the danger now, she rallied the femmes she was in command of – 5 now with Thunderblast on Cybertron – and brought them down to the lab to be tested. Only Shadow Striker and Flamewar had the affliction.

Sending Offshoot, Fracture, and Nightracer away, Slipstream turned to her comrades. "If you are wondering why I am testing you, it's because you have the same virus I have," the jet said bluntly.

Silencing in shock, the two femmes realised the reason why they had felt odder than usual. "Now I know why my gun wouldn't work when I went to the target room," Shadow Striker wondered aloud. Flamewar rolled her optics at the black, gold and blue femme. "That's not all, we have to bond and have a sparkling…it's the same one Starscream shot at the Autobots."

The younger femme looked at Slipstream for confirmation, and received a nod. "Oh. Well, the positive side is-"

"There is no positive side to it Shadow Striker," the evil seeker said, tone taking on a menacing hue. "We have to bond against our will and spawn little brats for the continuance of the army. How _degrading_ to be used as a breeder. No, my femmes. We will use the mech of our choice and then let the sparkling orb reabsorb back into our sparks. We get rid of them. It's an order. Dismissed."

The two silent femmes left their commander, both conflicted against the idea of destroying – when the time came – what was theirs. Even if it did mean disobeying orders.

**

* * *

**

Megatron

Snarling, displeased that what had seemed to be a good day had turned sour so quickly, the large silver mech finally got in front of a screen and sent a message to Optimus Prime. If Prime knew of the mission, he would have to be taught a lesson about messing with another factions femme. '_Oh dear Primus, have my systems already considered Starscream a femme?' _he asked himself. He was broken from his thoughts by the face of his arch enemy filling his screen.

"Prime."

"Good day Megatron."

Leaning forward and twisting his faceplates into a scowl, Megatron rasped, "To business, as always. Did you know about an invasion of our base by a team of your femme soldiers?"

"I'd hardly call four femmes an invasion. And yes. I knew their mission."

"Then this means-"

"War Megatron? If you haven't noticed, we are still in one."

"Don't be glib with me."

"I wasn't, I was just pointing it out. Besides, you are always the one ranting about how soft-sparked I am and how I should actually do something," the regal blue and red mech pointed out, thoroughly enjoying the expression of outrage on his enemy's face.

"It was your femmes."

"I still approved it."

"You will be punished, Prime," promised the grey and silver tyrant, optics burning.

Optimus actually frowned and canted his helm to the side. "No, Megatron. There has been too much vengeance lately. This is as far as the femmes go, they are not authorised to any other operation."

"Oh, then what do you suggest then?" Megatron bit back sarcastically.

"A truce for the next month at least. Then we will meet again over the screen to discuss and negotiate some more."

"And if I don't accept?"

Smiling pleasantly, Optimus said, "Well, I'll prove how hard-sparked I can be sometimes and make sure that my medics replicate that virus enough so that every single mech, including you, will be turned into a femme. Deal?"

Laughing at the challenge, Megatron said "Deal. Only because I have no doubt that I will be needing this month to pacify Starscream about her state. And during this month of truce, should your troops try something, I will personally rip out their internals and use them to make a new mace for myself."

"Good. Done. A month Megatron, don't forget."

And with that, the Autobot leader vanished from the Decepticon leader's sight. Shuttering his optics closed, Megatron dreamed of a time when he would finally reign supreme over the universe…and no more stuffy 'conference' calls with his enemy.

**A/N: Up next, Jazz puts his party week into action. Will sparks fly? And hearts desires reached? Only I know, so stay tuned! (-_- yes, I'm a bit cheesy.)**


	18. Jazzman Begins

**A/N: It's party week! And day one starts with…well, I'll let you read on. This chapter is basically a day! You all know my disclaimers. And hold on…it's a long ass chapter.**

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On another note, the chapters ar coming a bit slower, but that's because of uni and work and all. I know (hope!) you all understand. Thank you all for the positive feedback on the last chapter.

* * *

**Of Femmes and Sparkmates – Chapter 18 - Jazz's 'introduction to culture' – otherwise known as: "The Jazzman begins"**

**Day one**

Jazz stood in front of a great number of his fellow Autobots, grinning as he rubbed his hands together eagerly. Amplifying his vocaliser he said, "Hey guys! Before we get into the real fun of human culture, Ah'm just going to play a little service announcement about humans. It's a vid that Prime and Prowl made up, so try not to fall into recharge." Laughter met Jazz's remark and he turned on a projector. A rather dry film about 'what not to do' around humans. When it ended, Jazz got back up and said, "That's pretty much a direct order from our commanders. Now…who's ready for a human movie?"

A cheer went up, and, grinning, Jazz slid in Die Hard into the projector. The bots waited in anticipation as the scene of the airport came on. Almost all the femmes were in the room too, glad to have something take their mind off their virus. It wasn't until Hans Gruber and his men began with their threats and guns that many of the mechs perked up. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe pushed Cliffjumper and Huffer out of the way to get closer to the screen to watch John McClane and his struggle against the band of terrorists/thieves. When the fighting scenes came on, Chromia was seen to be watching with bright optics and stroking her gun in affection.

Red Alert, who had been forced to come for the first day by Inferno while Blaster was taking over the monitors for him, even yelled out at the screen in enthusiasm when his paranoia glitch played up, "You idiot FBI humans! Of _course_ it's a double cross!"

However, when the fight between Karl and John came on, while the mechs were cheering on John, Quicksilver left, not being able to stomach the hero being beaten up so badly. As the movie came to a close and Hans fell from the building, a roar of approval went up from the more warrior-like mechs, and did the same when the African-American police officer, Al Powell, defeated Karl with a crack shot. Even Bluestreak, who too had been a little uneasy with the amount of violence, was impressed with the shot.

As the credits rolled, the group grabbed cubes of energon and left, thanking the saboteur as they left. Tauri hung back though and went up to the smiling silver mech.

"Hey Jazz," she greeted warmly. Jazz was Prowl's bond-brother after all, and so far, they had gotten on famously.

"Tauri! Hey, didja like it?" he pointed to the credits rolling beside them.

"While I am surprised that humans are like us in the way they commit crimes against their own race, I was inspired by the mentality of the human John McClane. What movies do you think Prowl would like that would not crash his processor?" she asked, inquisitive.

Mentally flicking through the titles he was considering for that night, he spotted one and smirked. "How about 'The Phantom of the Opera'? Ah don't think the music will be too grating on Prowl, he hated the usual popular stuff on Cybertron. Oh, by the way, how're things going between you two?"

"He's given me a gift. Said something about Praxian courting rituals…actually, I've been meaning to ask you about that. Do you know what they entail?"

A knowing gleam entered Jazz's visor as he beckoned her towards a table and getting a cube for them both. Reclining and adopting a relaxed posture, taking a sip of the pink liquid, Jazz said, "Ah know Prowl, and Ah know that when he does something as serious as this, he doesn't do anything by halves. Praxian culture is important to him, and for him to court ya by Praxian rules, then he must really like ya."

Leaning forward curiously, the silver sharpshooter insisted that he tell her about the ritual.

"Ok, but it's only 'cos Ah've known Smokey and Prowl for so long that Ah know about 'em. The first thing they do is a gift. After that point, the mech will start being more aggressive towards the mechs around the femme of their interest and start doin' actions that will mark that femme as theirs. So don't be too scared if Prowler starts bein' a little feral towards other mechs around you," explained Jazz, waiting for the next question he was certain would spill from her lipplates. And it did.

"What sort of actions?" Tauri asked, wide opticed.

Grinning almost fiendishly, Jazz elaborated. "In the most extreme of cases that Ah've heard of, the mech publicly does the horizontal tango in public. If ya get what Ah mean."

Tauri's optics practically bugged out of her faceplates at the info and her cheek ridges flushed pink, before Jazz began laughing. "Ya should've seen ya're face. But that's in the most extreme. In other cases, a mech just might insist on the femme not washing the telling stains off. But Ah reckon the most Prowl will do is stick to ya like glue and become a little over-protective over ya. Give ya little gifts maybe."

Watching as Tauri unsubspaced something and glimpsed a wrapped package, Jazz put the pieces together and stated, not so much asked, "He's already started hasn't he."

Smiling softly and nodding, Tauri turned the package over in her hands before tearing through the paper to reveal the softly glinting object. Tauri gasped softly at the impeccably worked crystal sculpture, which was a set of Cybertronian glyphs that spelt her name. Even Jazz intaked in surprise. Prowl hadn't done much of his crystal workmanship since his Academy days. To see that he had done something so personal, and still be able to do the art so well, struck a chord in the saboteur.

"Wow," the femme breathed, reverently looking the sculpture over and tracing her fingers along the glyphs.

"Yeah. Prowler's good with crystals, but he hasn't done that since he did one for meh at our 'brother-bond' ceremony," whispered Jazz, caught in the glinting light of the crystal. Sensing Tauri was going to get up, Jazz said, "Hang on a sec, before ya go runnin' off to thank him." As Tauri settled, Jazz looked her over thoughtfully, wondering if there was a less blunt way of asking it, but decided just to be straightforward. "Ya haven't ever 'faced have ya?"

Tarui felt her cheekridges flush again and she didn't look at the silver mech as she asked quietly, "How did you know?"

"The way ya blushed when Ah mentioned the 'extreme cases' of Praxian courtin' rituals."

"Oh," she replied softly.

Taking her hand in a comforting way, not wanting her to shy from what he was going to tell her, Jazz went on, "Ya see, the only reason Ah ask is cos the…objective of these courtin' rituals is the lead up ta intimacy. All Ah mean to say is ya might wanna tell Prowler so he doesn't just assume and make it awkward when the time comes is all."

"You just made me awkward."

Jazz chuckled at her attempt at levity and released her hand, letting her up. She waved at him as she left, and Jazz sincerely hoped that she would come to truly love Prowl.

**

* * *

**

Prowl

Prowl was heading to his office for the first time that day, wanting the morning off so he could further plan for the courting ritual. He had strategically calculated which day, if Tauri reacted accordingly the way he thought she would, to implement the plan. It felt odd though, not being in his office from the start of the day. As he was walking down the halls, he heard the footsteps of Bluestreak behind him.

"Heya Prowl!" the gunner greeted enthusicatically, catching up with his mentor.

"Good morning Bluestreak, how are you?"

The question opened the floodgates on Bluestreak's mouth. "I'm good, but I was a little shocked at this human movie that Jazz put on, it was called Die Hard, and it was really cool but I can't believe how mean some humans are to each other but it means they are not too different from us and did you know that femme who I told you about long ago in the club, well she's here and when I saw her she was really embarrassed and ooh, maybe later can we do some shooting practice?"

Faceplates neutral, though internally Prowl grimaced at the mention of the awkward conversation they had a few days after Blue's first interface. "Really? Certainly a surprise for you then. I can arrange some time in my schedule tomorrow for us to have some shooting practice together."

Smiling brightly, Bluesreak said happily, "That's really great Prowl, and I have a patrol shift now and it was nice to see you and I hope you have a good day," and left, almost bouncing off the walls in happiness. Prowl shook his head slightly in marvel at the gunner's good nature before reaching his office.

His contentness at seeing Bluestreak disappeared as soon as he cycled open the door, and it took all of his willpower not to crash right then and there. His office….his pristine and clean, shiny office….was painted blush pink. PINK! And not only that…his furniture was glued – upside down – to the ceiling. Prowl could only stand and stare at the room, a few sparks flying from his helm as he tried not to let the processor crash overtake him. Red warnings flashed on his HUD and he shoved them away, trying to calm the roiling anger building inside of him.

Taking one step into the office, Prowl was further shocked by a huge **tub** of hot pink paint cascading down on him from the roof. Twitching, Prowl yelled, "**SIDESWIPE AND SUNSTREAKER!"** before his processor finally succumbed and he fell, off-line from a processor crash.

Tauri, who was walking down the hallway and gossiping with her gossiping sister, Gemini, heard the yell and felt the presence in her spark dampen. Looking at each other, the silver and the dark green femmes ran to the office.

Tauri stopped short when she saw Prowl lying, unmoving, on the ground, completely covered in pink paint. She dropped to the ground, and Gemini – amber visor bright as she scanned the scene - quickly said, "I'll go get Ratchet and Aquaris….oh wait until everyone hears about this!"

The silver femme didn't seem to hear the words as her younger sister sped out of sight. Taking the handsome face into her hands, Tauri stroked his faceplates and chevron soothingly, wishing that he could feel her touch. The part of her that was beginning to love him for all his silent passion for his cause, and for being himself, reared in anger at the prank. "Oh, who did this to you, baby?" she whispered, letting the endearment slip. Seeing his face in a mask of grimacing pain (from the crash no doubt), a deep, dark fury roared through her and her sapphire optics turned violet in rage, some red flecks showing through. Hearing footsteps, she whipped her helm to see Gemini return with the promised medics.

"Look after him," she growled out, and was off like a shot.

Ratchet got pushed to the side as she blazed past, and heard extreme whirring of vents that could only be because of rage. Looking to the other two femmes who looked non-plussed, the medic demanded, "What the frag was that?"

"Our sister Tauri when she's fragged off," supplied Aquaris, using her medical scanner on the pranked mech.

Noticing Ratchet's bewildered look, Gemini giggled a bit and explained. "You see, Tauri is very caring to everyone and she finds it hard to really anger. But when she does, she scares the pit out of everyone. It's because those that she cares for and loves the most, she's a bit possessive of. And she said she got a gift from Prowl earlier, so combine those two together, well….."

"It sends her into something of a berserker rage. Her optics change colour and Tauri will not rest until the person wronged is avenged or until she is appeased. In our experience, it's best to leave her until she cools off," continued Aquaris blandly, clearly not really concerned as she plugged in a CPU analyser to the back of the Praxian's helm.

"And besides!" added Gemini brightly, "it means that you guys won't have to come up with a punishment for the twins…I heard Prowl yell their names before Tauri and I arrived." Ratchet could only sigh. It was another day of madness in the Autobot base.

* * *

Tauri was _beyond_ fragged off. How dare those twins do that to Prowl? Prowl, who kept everything in order, Prowl, who did whatever he could – sacrificing his time among other things – to help the Autobot cause, Prowl, who had a secret and tender spark. The handsome and dignified mech who was her bondmate by fate and chance. He. Was. Hers.

And _**not**_ to be messed with.

Sunstreaker. Sideswipe. She recalled hearing their shouted names and had thought nothing of them until now. They needed to be punished. The silver femme stalked down the corridors, which were surprisingly empty – she had not heard for an order from Ratchet over the comms to clear the hallways – and arrived at the big double doors of the rec-room. They had to be here. _Had_ to be.

With all her might, the silver femme slammed through the doors and became a heat seeking missile…seeking a certain pair of twins.

Sitting at a table with a gleeful Sunny and Sides, who had heard Prowl's yell, Wildside's optics widened as she took in Tauri, who seemed bigger than usual. This effect occurred when the tubing and circuitry underneath a bot's plating lifted slightly to intimidate.

"Shoot!" whispered the black, green and gold femme, familiar with the sight of the crimson-flecked, wild violet optics of an angered sharpshooter.

"What?" grinned Sideswipe, whose back was to the rec-room.

"Um….you know that prank you guys just pulled? You forgot about Tauri," said Wildside softly, as to not attract attention to them - thankfully, Tauri hadn't spotted them…yet.

"Yes. So?" said Sunstreaker huffily. "What is she going to do?"

"I wouldn't turn around then."

Wildside wanted to smack her black hand to her forehead when the twins ignored her words and did so and caught sight of the silver femme, who at the same time, caught sight of them. With a wordess, feral snarl, Tauri leaped forward, hands outstretched for the twins.

"Dude, RUN!" cried Sideswipe, seeing Tauri's face, was up and running, Sunstreaker not far behind.

Turning around, Tauri yelled, "GET BACK HERE! You glitching, moronic, cowardly, only fit for being datapads, horrid mechs!" and sped after them at full sprint.

When the rec-room fell silent once more, staring after the debacle, Sagittari turned to Ariea and said, "So that's why Ratchet cleared the hallways."

"I am so glad it wasn't me on the receiving end, that's for sure," agreed the cherry red femme, taking a sip of her energon. Trailbreaker, who was sitting at the next table over with Hound and Mirage, asked, "So this is normal?"

Shrugging, the white and lavender Zodiac leader said, "Only when's she's as furious as all Pit."

"Oh," said all three mechs together, before going back to their energon. Ariea turned to Sagittari and, raising an eyeridge, said, "Well, looks like Tauri likes Prowl more than we thought. We might be aunts soon." Sagittari shook her head, however, much to Ariea's puzzlement.

"Our bond's actually won't work like that. You see, because we are sisters in the sense that Enigmus was the one who envoked the procedure, but did not give us his CNA. We can call each other sisters, but we can't really call our sisters children our nieces and nephews," she elaborated.

"Wait….so that means it's possible say…for your youngling to fall in love with my youngling and it wouldn't be taboo?" questioned Ariea, not really thinking it possible.

"Yep, that's about right."

"Huh….wonder if Tauri's caught up to those twins yet?"

* * *

She had. After a chase from the rec-room, past the Neutral living quarters, through the cargo bays, Tauri finally caught up to the twins in a large storeroom where they panted, amazed at the stamina and drive of Tauri's anger. Backing them up against the back wall with one hand each on their chestplates, she barked, "Good, FINALLY stopped running from the inevitable. Now, shut up, don't you dare say a word while I talk."

They nodded frantically, too tired and too awed at her relentlessness to protest.

Folding her arms and glaring at them, she began. "First off, _why_ you pulled off such an elaborate prank fries my processor. And on your second in command no less! To paint his office _pink_, drop pink paint _on_ him, and to add some insult, _bolt his furniture to the ceiling!_ Either you are bored so much out of your processor that you would even have the audacity to pull such an escapade or you have something against Prowl. Why on Earth or Cybertron would you want to do such a thing?"

Gathering his courage, Sideswipe whined, "But we thought it'd be funny-"

"Oh, sure, _really_ funny when your bondmate suddenly _drops right out of your spark_. In that split second before I saw him, you know what I felt? THAT HE WAS DEAD!" Tauri cried, a few tears of coolant slipping from her optics as she vented her hurt.

The twins looked at each other in horror, and then back at the sobbing femme as she dropped to her knees. Waves of guilt crashed down on them as they realised they should have taken the silver femmes feelings into account. Evidently, they didn't know the great deal of affection that she had for Prowl, and had forgotten – if they ever thought of them at all – the consequences of that.

Hesitantly placing a hand on her shoulder (hoping she wouldn't bite it off), Sideswipe said, "Um…well….we're really sorry. We didn't mean to make you fear for his life and all. I think it's cos we are so used to Prowl's crashes."

The 'beserker' violet glow from her optics dissipated and she calmed fully as she shook her head and whispered, "Thanks, but I think I just over-reacted. I was so happy when I was going to see him, which I think made it all the worse."

Rubbing her helm sheepishly, Tauri looked back up at them and admonished, "Don't think this lets you off the hook. I will claim your punishment until I deem fit."

Sideswipe pouted and he began, "Aww, but-"

"Fine," broke in Sunstreaker, taking his brother's arm and dragging him out of the storeroom. When they were out, Sideswipe hissed, "Why did you agree, you glitch?"

Sunstreaker's gaze cut through his brother and he ground out, "We shouldn't of done it in the first place."

"But you liked the idea!" the red frontliner protested.

Sunstreaker said nothing, even though his brother prodded him verbally and through the bond they shared. When the door of the shared living room they lived in shut, Sunstreaker rounded on his brother and slapped him on the side of his head. Cutting off his protest, Sunstreaker snarked, "Did you _see_ the way she felt Sides? I may not be the smartest or friendliest of mechs, but I saw her face. We tampered with the mech that she loves and it destroyed her. We _deserve_ anything she gives us. Even if it means sparkling-sitting their first when the time comes."

"Pfft, she can't love Prowl. He has like, only a few emotions."

"Shut up. I know you like the mech as 2IC even if he does have a serious 'tude. Besides, she's been staying with Prowl on and off days ever since they bonded. I've seen her walking out of that corridor. And she loves him, even if she herself doesn't know it yet," Sunstreaker stressed the words as he spoke them, wanting to make sure Sideswipe understood.

Sideswipe sighed and plopped himself down on the couch and rested his helm in his hands. "We screwed up royally, didn't we?"

"Sounds like you thought about that one Sides, dangerous. But yes. We did," said the golden mech, ducking as Sideswipe chucked a couch pillow at his head. But in their sparks, they felt slightly better knowing that Tauri wasn't too upset with them anymore, but the shame of their actions and the guilt they had would linger.

"I'm gonna call Lyrica and Muse here. They'll make us feel better," suggested the red mech.

Sunstreaker snorted, " You mean Lyrica will make you feel better. She's sweet on you bro. Muse needs a bit more work though."

Sideswipe felt his spark lighten at the thought of the songstress. She had gotten a drink with him multiple times, and always enjoyed talking to him. Sideswipe, too, was attracted to her sense of naivety and her 'cuteness.' "Yeah," he sighed.

* * *

**Medbay**

Tauri crept into the bay, a place she was sure was becoming a bit too familiar to her. Jolt, who was medic on duty, nodded at her and pointed to a closed door. Tauri smiled slightly, still a little distraught. She had lost control in front of the twins during her tirade, and it went to the spark of the matter. She had freaked when she felt Prowl drop out of the bond, and had thought that he was dead. Just for that split-second in time where her happiness was ruined, she thought the handsome black and white Praxian was deactivated.

Reaching the door, she knocked and entered, seeing Prowl sitting up in the berth, enjoying a cube of energon, paint job yielding no traces of the horrid pink, thanks to Hoist's superb paint remover. Cool blue optics greeted her from beneath his crimson chevron in a neutral expression.

"I apologise that you did not have much warning. I imagine it was hard, feeling what it was like," Prowl said softly. Tauri nodded, not coming closer than the doorway.

"I'm fine. My helm's just a little sore," supplied Prowl, patting the side of the berth in invitation.

'_To Pit with it,'_ Tauri thought, and leaped lightly onto the berth and gave him a gentle hug. The silver femme felt him start a little under her, before she felt hesitant, unsure hands rest on her shoulders in reciprocation. Prowl felt their bond cascade open, with feelings of care, fear, and another emotion he wouldn't identify flow though. Mentally also giving her a hug, Prowl tightened his embrace on the femme, making her snuggle into him. The programming that held his Praxian heritage – specifically, the courting rituals – purred in satisfaction at their close proximity. The 2IC waited as she settled and eventually moved off him to sit side by side.

"Feel better?" he asked gently.

"Much. I wanted to thank you for your gift, which I fully accept. It was really beautiful," she said, good natured mood returning in the presence of her bondmate.

"I'm glad you did. This is only the second time I've initiated the rituals with a femme. I used to know mechs who had done it over a hundred times without finding a mate. But before you ask, I've got something to ask you," Prowl said, gently grasping her slender chin to keep her optics locked on his. "I heard you went into a special rage. Is this true?"

Wanting to turn her optics down in shame, Tauri whispered, "Yes. But…Prowl, what they did-"

"I was actually surprised they hadn't of tried anything before. They do it all the time, and while the illogicality of their immature behaviour always astounds me, and the fact they seem to beg for punishment, I know at their spark they do not do it out of spite. Use your emotional ability…what did you sense?"

At his question, her processor threw up the data she had unknowingly collected. "They do it because…it boosts morale and…because it gets them away from the horror of the war they are fighting in."

"I suspected as much. Now, I'm not berating you Tauri," the mech said gently, "but you see? This is their way of dealing with their grief. Buestreak likes to talk in long, run-on sentences. Cliffjumper uses his hate of Decepticons as a shield. The twins….like to paint me pink and turn my office into chaos."

The silver femme giggled softly, but buried her head into Prowl's neck. Now starting to get used to the fact his bondmate was so close, Prowl allowed the action, but watched the door. Jazz with an image capture would be difficult to catch. Feeling Tauri speak, her words were muffled, prompting the tactitian to raise her head up.

Realising that he hadn't heard her, Tauri repeated, "After Ratchet lets you go, do you want to watch the movie Jazz is putting on tonight? He said he think you'll like it."

Considering, Prowl smiled softly and said, "I'd like that. I'll meet you there."

Tauri smiled back and jumped off the berth, and waved a farewell. As she turned her back to him, the white and black mech's faceplates heated in a Cybertronian equivalent of a blush. His icy blue optics had found her form and had blatantly 'checked-her-out.' Even though she had now gone, his processor flashed a few pictures of her rather tempting, slim legs and gracefully straight back, tightened by strong muscle cables. Grumbling to himself, '_Stop acting like an over-charged youngling!'_ he could, however, not deny the attraction he was beginning to feel for the sweet, yet determined, silver femme.

**

* * *

**

Later – night

With only the slightest pain in his processor from the processor crash, Prowl entered the rec-room, pleased to see that Tauri had chosen a seat mostly towards the back and to the side. He had never liked being at the front, nor had he ever liked being in the middle of a seating row, stuck with mechs and femmes on either side. Tauri must have felt the same. Nodding a few greetings here and there, Prowl eventually found his way to the smiling silver femme, whose mood looked much improved.

Accepting the cube of energon that she offered him, Prowl thanked her and, in turn, handed her another wrapped package.

Satisfaction wormed his way into his usually emotionless facade, smirking slightly, as she gasped, "Prowl, this is a bit much!" Her optics brightening, she hastily unwrapped it to reveal another crystal sculpture. Only this time it was a blue-tinted bull, head up, on hoof pawing the air.

"It's an organic version of meccano-bulls, and is also the human sign of your zodiac," said Prowl, looking around the room, observing who was there. As Tauri rapturously examined the new gift, Prowl noticed something a bit disturbing. Speaking very quietly so no one could hear, save for his sparkmate, the white and black mech observed, "Why are all the couples here? Is this some sort of romance film?"

"Hmm? Oh," Tauri whispered back, "it's a musical called 'The Phantom of the Opera.' I guess it does have large overtones of romance though."

'_Ah,'_ thought the Praxian, '_that explains then.'_

For in the front Esperanza and Bumblebee were seated together, trying to inconspicuously hold hands. At the other end of their row were Inferno and Firestar, the large red firetruck laying a protective hand over the smaller femme's chestplates as she settled on his lap. Ratchet and Moonracer, also, where the green femme was leaning into the medic's side. Even the notorious 'sappy' avoiders, Ironhide and Chromia were there! And no doubt, if Prowl looked behind them, he would find the bulk of his leader with Elita-1 and enjoying each other in peaceful time.

Yes, although there were other mechs and a few other femmes as well – among them the musical twins, Muse and Lyrica – it seemed very much a couples affair. It made Prowl feel slightly out of place.

Nevertheless, he committed himself to enjoying the down-time he had while it was there. As the bouncing, silver form of his bond-brother came forward to play the human movie, Prowl hoped that the time with Tauri wasn't going to be wasted.

**After the film**

Sitting in a booth now that the film was over, enjoying their previously ignored energon, Prowl listened to his bondmate babble joyously about the movie.

"Oh I can't believe the music! Even Muse and Lyrica were impressed with the human music, and for them, that is saying much. Soaring to such heights, filling you up, and then bringing you down to subtlety – portraying the quiet repressed emotions. And that poor, tortured soul of the Phantom. Imagine what it would be like Prowl, to live like a leper among others for being a genius trapped within a shell…" she trailed off when she saw Prowl's too-blank expression and slight tremble of the majestic doorwings she so admired.

"I'm sorry Prowl. I guess…you are sometimes treated like that," she said softly, not meaning to hurt him. She had felt the slight pangs from his spark.

Shaking his head and waving a dismissive hand, Prowl replied, "It's doesn't really matter…even if I _can_ understand where the Phantom's mentality comes from. Which was your favourite piece of the music? Mine was 'Music of the night.'"

"It is mine as well. His voice as he tells of his passion for the music, oh…it gave me shivers. There's a certain rawness of emotion in his voice, isn't there?"

The nuances and power of the actor's voice had also had their affect on Prowl, as it had on Tauri. "Yes. He feels more that what others expected. If…if you were the character Christine Daae, would you have chosen the Phantom or Raoul?"

"The Phantom, no doubt," Tauri said without pause.

A little surprised at the answer, Prowl asked, "Why?"

"Well, he is my favourite character. But, in her position, I would have used the power of her love, and the power of his love for her, to turn the Phantom into a more emotionally stable person. Without her, he cannot function like a normal human should. But she loved Raoul more. She did not feel for the Phantom because he did not represent safety. Christine as a character was not strong enough," Tauri explained, much to the surprise of Prowl.

"When you describe it like that, it makes complete logical sense. I am surprised at myself, my battle computer didn't even twitch during the film. Would you like to go?"

Smiling her soft smile at Prowl (his Praxian programming jumped a little), she nodded and they both rose and headed towards the doorway. It was odd, however, that no-one had left the rec-room after the movie. There was an organic plant over the doorway, and just as Prowl and Tauri went to pass, Jazz, who had been grinning a fiendish grin called out, "Hey, stop there guys!"

They did, and Jazz pointed up towards the plant, and a few others snickered in the background. "Ah'd look that plant up Prowler. There's a little tradition behind it."

Prowl accessed the world wide web and found the plant and its traditions. It was mistletoe. He stiffened as he processed what was expected of he and Tauri to do. He mentally growled. Prowl imagined their first kiss to be much more _private_. And later on in the courtship too. Glancing at Tauri, he saw that she had researched it and glimpsed the intention of it. She was not fully looking at him and biting her bottom lip in nervousness.

Glaring at Jazz, knowing the silver mech wouldn't let him go unless they kissed, he said lowly, "If you don't get everyone in this room to turn around if I have to do this, then everyone will find out about that time in Praxus while we were in the Academy-"

"Ok, ok! Jeez, mech," Jazz hastily calmed him, visor glowing brighter as he tried to stop the embarrassing story from coming out. Turning to the rest of the bots in the room, Jazz called out, "Right, give yer 2IC some privacy…we all know they'll be doing this sort of thing in front of us someday anyway…" the cheeky saboteur ducked as a datapad went flying by his head, courtesy of the tactician. Some reluctantly, the inhabitants of the rec-room turned away.

Standing face-to-face with Prowl, Tauri felt her faceplates heat up even more. His handsome faceplates with their regal structure were seemingly _too_ close now. She almost dented her lip she was so nervous. She had never been kissed before….

Feeling a touch on her cheek, she felt Prowl turning her head so his optics could look intently into hers. Through their bond, he sent a whisper of confidence and comfort. Bringing his face closer and raising his other white hand to cup her face, he ex-vented warm air over her faceplates, making her shudder slightly.

"Close your optics if you are too nervous," came the warm whisper from those lipplates that were only inches from hers now. She did so.

Upon closing her optics, she went still, processing all her sensors were feeding to her. She felt hands on either side of her face, guiding her. Safe. And the light gusts of warm air cycling through Prowl's ex-vents. And then…the light touch of warm lips on hers in a chaste, protective, kiss. Those wonderful lipplates lingered there for a few moments, before pulling away just as gently as they arrived. Un-shuttering her optics to meet Prowl's kind, icy blue ones, Tauri could only blush and feel the tingling left by the kiss.

"Let's go," he said, more authoritative, and shooting Jazz another glare, left the room with Tauri.

They were silent until they reached his quarters. Once she was settled on the couch with Prowl, he asked the sharpshooter kindly, "Was that your first ever kiss?"

She laughed, a little bitterly, and said, "It's a little mortifying actually. I've got younger sisters who have 'faced and kissed before, and I've done neither. So, just to be put on the spot like that-"

"-was humiliating," Prowl finished for her in his smooth tenor. But turning to him, Tauri reassured, "Don't get me wrong. It was….actually really nice...and sweet. It felt wonderful." Another 'blush' tinged her faceplates, causing a genuine smile to bloom on Prowl's face. Seeing that treasure of a smile, Tauri knew she had fell off the precipice that led into the deep valley called love.

"A kiss should always feel like that. Like you are something to be cherished…wanted," he said. His courtship plan be damned now, for once he didn't care. Pressing his advantage, he cupped her face again and brought their lips together once more, only this time it was less innocent. Prowl massaged her lips with his, and prompted her to try with him, only her touch was lighter, unsure. The tactician went slowly, encouraging her with his movements to copy and learn from what he had to offer. Flicking out his glossa to trace her lip components, Prowl found themselves interrupted by his door chime. Growling slightly as he tenderly pulled away, he signalled the door open.

A tentative and sheepish Bluestreak stood there, hands clasped behind his back. As Prowl stood in front of him, the grey and blue Praxian blurted, "Prowl I know it's late and I'm sorry to have interrupted your evening and all but I had another night terror memory flux thing and I know you always said I was welcome to stay with you and…oh, Tauri you're here, you are really nice, and Prowl I'm really sorry again but if you and Tauri are doing something then I can just-" The babbling speech was cut off by Prowl's raised hand.

"It's fine Bluestreak. Come in," Prowl said, gesturing to the couch where Tauri sat, smiling again in welcome.

Prowl had been frustrated at first with the interruption – but then he had heard the way Bluestreak had spoken. Faster than his usual babble, with a slightly higher pitch in his vocaliser. Prowl could never turn Bluestreak away after a night terror, not when he was so vulnerable and feeling so alone. Looking on at the two beings who were in his top 5 bots he cared about, Prowl couldn't help but feel his spark lighten at the scene.

Tauri had immediately embraced the slightly shaking mech, soothing him and encouraging to tell her calmly about his terror.

"Um…well…this time it was about my first kill as an Autobot. I was only supposed to be doing a training exercise near the oil lake just outside of Iacon. It was an a-a-ambush…" tears of coolant flowed down the young mechs cheek arches as he told of the refreshed memory, and began stuttering his words. Prowl came to sit down on his charge's other side and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I was with a mentor and two…other young mechs…Blazer and Wind Whipper…the…um…mentor was Drumroll. It was so sudden, six Decepticons l-leaped out of..of no-where. I was the you-youngest, so Drumroll pushed me behind a wall. B-b-blazer was-was the first to g-go down. Then Wind Whipper. Dr-D-Drumroll was last, but had th-thrown his g-gun to m-me j-just before he de-deactivated," he sobbed, clinging tighter to Tauri as the pain of the memory crept up on him. She rubbed his striking red chevron, so much like Prowl's, to calm him.

The young mech continued. "B-but there were still two C-cons left. They came towards me, and I…really h-hated them b-because they destroyed my h-h-ome, so I-I got the g-gun and aimed and f-f-ired. I got b-both right between the o-optics. But I f-felt sick after…wards and p-purged. Their e-e-nergon was…was all over m-me!"

"It's all in the past, baby Blue," Tauri whispered, still stroking his chevron. Prowl could only marvel at her compassion for the mech he had always considered a little brother. The tactitian also stroked the shaking backplates in comfort.

Bluestreak continued to sob softly, memories overtaking him. Quickly conferencing and agreeing over their bond, the silver femme and black and white mech both supported the gunner as they lifted him off the couch and took him into the spare room where Tauri usually slept. Manoeuvring the crying mech onto his stomach was slightly difficult as he went limp in his internal grief.

"Shh…try to relax Bluestreak," murmured Prowl sitting on the berth with him and tenderly stroking the back of his head.

"Bluestreak…I'm going to do something to help calm you down…it is ok if I massage your back?" asked Tauri quietly from her bondmate's side. At the gunner's slow nod, Tauri moved onto the berth and warmed up the neat nodes in her hands, again deciding to use her masseuses wax like she had done for Prowl. In her empathy for the poor, young mech, she too had a few tears of coolant leaking from the sides of her optics.

The older Praxian watched as Tauri gently slid her hands in small circles first down the centre of Blue's back, then the sides. She swept her hands up and down and long strokes next, pausing to give his chevron an affectionate rub, and then moved to the grief-tensed doorwings.

Prowl could feel the young gunner start to settle down, coolant tears stopping, under the caring hands of the silver femme. When Tauri reached the doorwings, Bluestreak completely dropped into recharge, now snuggling against the berth. As she pulled up a berth sheet over the still form, Tauri whispered to Prowl, "He's a good mech."

"That he is," agreed Prowl, also giving an affectionate rub to Bluestreak's helm. "He so admired me ever since I saved him as a youngling from the burning ruins of Praxus. Always asking for me to read him a story before he recharged, refusing to go into a youngling centre in Iacon…no, he wanted me." Prowl sighed and shuttered his optics, "I wish I could take all his demons away." He rose and headed for the door, Tauri following and giving one last caress to the relaxed faceplates.

"I'll recharge in my own quarters tonight, but I must say Prowl…I find it lonely, knowing you are not in the next room," she said softly, making for the door. Prowl went with her, and turned her to him to kiss her again, also kissing the coolant tracks on her cheek arches.

"You were fantastic with Blue," he whispered admiringly. She smiled her smile and replied, "And you couldn't have done better with him even if you had been his own creator."

Tauri looked up at him, emotion burning fiercely in her optics and over the bond. "It's a _lie_ what they say about you. You are not sparkless. You have a spark, a strong one. You feel, love, anger as others do, but choose not to express it. They are _wrong_ Prowl." Embraced him briefly and turned away before she couldn't control herself.

When she had left and he was back at Bluestreak's side, Prowl wished the pangs in his spark would go away. He wanted her here…because in witnessing her empathy for Blue, it had made him feel like being in a family again. And in her passion for him...he felt invigorated and loved.

.

**A/N: OOOoooohhh, big chunk of Prowl/Tauri there. Do I write Prowl correctly? I hope I do, I love the mech. Next day is coming up!**


	19. Gladiators and Healing sparks

**Day two of Jazz's planning. Here we looks at human history and culture through the ages. And no-one understood how on Earth or Cybertron how Jazz set it all up by himself. You all know my disclaimers. **

**

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**

Of Femmes and Sparklings – Chapter 19 – Gladiators and healing sparks

No bot could understand it. Last night the movie had finished close to Earth's midnight, and bot's had lingered around after as well. It was hard to explain how Jazz had set up the _whole_ rec-room the way he did in the space of three hours. When Hound had risen early to go exploring, he had ventured into the rec-room at 0323 hours to discover **all **the available wall space had been covered in information booths. He had gone and come back from his drive before waking Mirage at 0649 hours to drag him to the room.

And now that more bots were awake at a more natural time, many were curiously looking through the datapads provided at each booth and analysing the holo-models as well as the reality models. For in each booth there was information on a variety of Earth cultures and histories, including languages and religions.

Perceptor was using his microscope to zoom in on the scale model of the Eiffel tower, explaining at length to Skyfire, who was with him, about the design features of the tower. Mirage was at a booth reading information of the drama in the lives and times of English nobles, predominantly the Tudors. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were cruising through, looking interestedly at the Viking history booth with its weapons display and boats, and at the World War One and Two booths.

Arcee was there with Flare-up, trying to encourage her friend not to mope around so much. They were looking at a fashion booth, or more specifically, the development of human high heels amongst other footwear and browsing through statement styles from designers. Among the models of stiletto's and wedges, the pink motorbike tried, in vain, to engage Flare-up in the activity. The orange and red femme had been slightly morose ever since she had been rescued, in her sparked state pining for her mate who only contacted her through feelings of reassurance and care. As far as Arcee knew, they had not spoken.

"Oh Flare-up look at those funny things! They are called armadillo heels," the pink femme pointed out, to receive a smile that faded as quickly as it had came. Acree sighed. She wished, oh how she wished, that she could make her friend's hurt go away.

"I'm sorry Arcee," her friend said softly. Patting Flare-up on the back, Arcee replied, "It's ok. I…just want you to cheer up. I know it's hard."

Feeling guilty, and also wanting to escape from the rec-room, Flare-up offered, "How about I show you the protoform design of my sparkling?"

The whole rec-room turned from their booths to Arcee as she squealed in delight, grabbing Flare-up's hand and whisking them out of the doors.

Aquaris chuckled softly from her spot in front of a booth on medicinal practices of the humans, and in particular medicinal plants. Aloe Vera was capable of healing burns and bites on human skin, while opium from poppy's, while being an illegal drug, was also used in pain-relief pharmaceuticals. In her peripheral vision, she saw a flash of vaguely familiar blue and grey. Shifting her aqua-coloured form, she noticed it was Bluestreak.

The femme medic had been up late the night previous, and when she had heard footsteps in the Zodiac corridor, she had peeked her head out to see who it was. It was Tauri, some traces of coolant tears mingling on her cheeks and walking slowly into her room. "Tauri," Aquaris called her, and gestured into her room. Once inside, she demanded, "What happened?"

"Aquaris, it's not me, don't worry," the younger silver femme reassured, "I was crying for someone else's pain."

"Whose?" the medic femme asked, folding her arms, knowing Tauri would get teary at times.

"Bluestreak…that poor young mech. I won't tell you what he's been through, but I feel _so_ deeply for him," Tauri had said, before thanking Aquaris for her concern and leaving for her own quarters.

Now, watching the mech who had willingly gave himself up to her care back in the Pretty FEM club on Cybertron, Aquaris found herself wanting to help with his hurt – it was her programming for being a medic she was sure. Striding up to the booth a little away from him, she greeted him with a "Hello, Bluestreak."

Bluestreak's optics brightened at her voice and turned to face her and promptly began to speak. "Hi Aquaris, how are you? Don't you think this is cool? Jazz is awesome for doing this."

The aqua femme saw past the forced smile and happy tone, but replied nevertheless like she hadn't noticed, "I'm well. I think that Jazz is working very hard to help us understand and learn," she said, looking at the large booth. In the middle was a structure labelled 'The Roman Colosseum,' an elliptical shaped bowl with rows upon rows of seats filling it. Statues lined the windows, each a perfect arch. "It's amazing what these humans can do," observed the femme medic.

"It says on the description on the data pad that it was made a bit less than 2000 years ago…it was used for games," said Bluestreak, optics turning grave as his gaze dragged back to the amphitheatre (shown as it would have been new), recalling what he had read on the datapad moments previous. Aquaris was startled by his speaking pace – with his last sentence, he had slowed to normal speed. "Games back then…were watching and laughing, being entertained, while gladiators versed other humans, slaves or beasts and the winner would be the last ones alive. It…it was entertainment to watch as life was lost to the blades of others…." The young Praxian trailed off, lost in his thoughts, while Aquaris felt like she had intruded on a very private scene for the young grey and blue mech.

Cautiously touching his arm at his side, the aqua femme asked sincerely, "Are you ok Bluestreak? Would…would you like to talk to me?" all the while cursing her medical programming that was making her feel for the mech whose virginity she had taken.

Bluestreak was back to his babble, saying, "Oh no, that's ok, I'll probably just embarrass you again in front of everyone like I did on your first day with Ratchet, and it's ok, nothing is too wrong, don't worry for me." Aquaris narrowed her optics, amber orbs penetrating baby blue ones.

"Uh…well, actually," Bluestreak gulped, changing his mind upon seeing her look, remembering medics could be scary when you didn't do what they wanted and knew was good for you.

"Good mech. I'll see you tomorrow, for I am far too curious about the rest of these booths to do it now. However, if you really need to talk to me fine. Also," Aquaris mentioned, looking at the slightly smaller mech, "Tauri and Cancera are good as well. Cancera, however, feels a little less suffocating, though still the mother hen of the group."

The gunner nodded madly before making his getaway. Aquaris looked as he left, wondering if the slight pulsing in her spark was attraction or frustration.

**

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Optimus and Elita

"We'll announce both events tomorrow. It will make Jazz's party go off with a real bang," half-suggested, half-determined Elita, sitting adjacent to her sparkmate as they discussed happenings and plans in general. They had never felt more secure as a couple, even though they had gone through so many turns up and down in the course of their relationship, it finally felt like they couldn't get stronger than this.

Sending a gentle smile her way, Optimus, nodding, agreed. "Yes, it will suddenly give them a cause for celebration. I must say dear, the idea of recording that holo for Starscream was particularly cunning."

Elita laughed, "Well I wasn't sure at first, because it made me feel so un-Autobot like. But once I started, I saw the perfect irony and had to run with it."

Still smiling warmly, the flamed leader turned to other matters. "Ultra Magnus, Springer and Hot Rod should be back tomorrow. I hope they made it back off Cybertron safely. Wheeljack's new hyperdrive engines were reported to be functioning efficiently."

"I'm sure they are. However, I'm more concerned about the friendship between Hot Rod and Springer," Elita said.

"And why is that?"

Smirking, the contented femme quirked an optic ridge and explained, "Well you see, Arcee has secretly gone out with both of them. Just before the mission, while us femmes were still off-line from the virus, I think Hot Rod mentioned their past relationship to Springer – who had thought that Arcee had been completely devoted to him even after their split back on Cybertron – and that fact turned Springer a little frosty before they departed. It will be interesting what they have said to each other in that time…and what they do when they come back."

Rolling his optics in affectionate exasperation, Optimus said, "At least they've reported to have enough Cybertronian alloys needed for the specific parts of sparkling shells."

"Indeed. Would you like to come to the rec-room with me? Chromia mentioned to me that Jazz has set up all these booths on humans."

"I'd love to my dear," smiled Optimus, extending his hand in a gentlemanly gesture, which Elita accepted. The couple stood, clasping hands, and left the office for the rec-room. Once there, they were greeted by Muse and Lyrica who were at the booth closest to the door, at a set up on musicals. Other bots waved or nodded respectfully at them. The leaders wandered over to a booth labelled proudly 'Great human leaders.'

As their optics roved over the pictures of human faces, among them namely Nelson Mandela, Martin Luther King Jr, Mother Teresa, Eleanor Roosevelt, Ghandi, Queen Victoria, and Jesus.

As Elita picked up the accompanying datapad and read it, remarking, "It's amazing for a race so young that they have such potential within them…the sacrifices of some of their leaders are inspiring. That man there was imprisoned for trying to bring equality to his country." Elita had pointed a slim white finger at the picture of a smiling Nelson Mandela.

"It is. When I first met Sam, I was slightly dubious, but the young man has proven himself again and again," agreed the towering blue and red mech.

They moved on, taking in as much as they could. Elita was fascinated with the booth on human jewellery, on the great stones from throughout history, from cursed diamonds to large stones of quartz. The rose coloured femme was enthralled at the fact that humans adorned themselves with the jewels. Optimus was caught on one of Australia, admiring the glittering golden beaches and beautiful surroundings, wondering if he should take Elita for a 'mission' there. Optimus went to move on but realised his faithful mate had stopped still, staring out at the room.

"Elita?" questioned the big mech, and was startled by Elita stalking over to a corner where five small femmes were clustered together. Seeing who they were, Optimus's air vents intaked in surprise…no wonder Elita had rushed over to them.

Elita neared the small femmes of the Jewel combiner, looking at them disappointedly. They looked up at her somewhere around the tops of her thighs, realising that they might be in trouble. "Onyx, Emerald, Ruby, Sapphire and Topaz. I am glad to see that you have finally ventured out of your quarters. Even though I have contacted you all at least three times to come to my office." Crossing her arms and tapping her foot, waiting for an answer.

"We are here today because we have finally gotten sick of hiding, commander" said Onyx. Stubborn blue optics peered up at their leader from each of the five femmes, wings on each hitching up slightly.

"You disobeyed a command from me. I wanted to ask about this problem you mentioned a few weeks ago with your sparks, and to avoid discussing it in a public arena such as the rec-room," said Elita pointedly.

The small femmes all looked at each other and seemed to come to an agreement. "We will agree to meet you next time you call, ma'am," replied Topaz, bowing her honey-coloured helm in agreement.

Appeased and with a slight smile, Elita nodded sharply, "Good. Please do, for it would be unfortunate for me to bestow some punishment on you for something so trivial."

Walking back to Optimus, her sparkmate wrapped and arm around her shoulders loosely, should she choose to shake it off and said, "I do love it when you go all authoritative. Makes me admire you all the more."

"Especially in the berth," smirked the femme commander with a sly smile.

Optimus chuckled, "Oh yes, especially in the berth."

**

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Ratchet

The medic sighed. The past week had been fantastic, like he had been in his own bubble of ignorance of the world around him with no-one but Moonracer. Every night they came together, again and again to rejoice in the fact that they had taken that last step, _proved_ that they had chosen to undertake commitment, to make a new life. And now it felt someone had popped it, with a cry of 'oops, good feelings gone.' The medic almost wanted to just throw his wrench, but couldn't at this particular bot who stood in front of him. He respected the old commander too much.

"Kup, this is beyond ridiculous; you are beyond ridiculous! It could deactivate you. Permanent," enforced the medic harshly.

The faded green mech chewed on his cy-gar before drawling around it, "Ratchet, I know ma body 'n' parts almost as well as you or any other medic do. And you know as well as I that when a bot gets to ma age who hasn't sparkbonded or had offspring, that the spark will start giving off a large amount of spark energy once every vorn."

"Start using human terms will you? So, according to you, 79 years ago this event happened?" questioned Ratchet, crossing his arms.

"Yeah. And I know when I was a middle-aged mech, before even Ironhide was sparked, that when old mechs were giving off this energy, the medic would harvest it to create sparklin's – they'd generate it back into the All-Spark," said Kup. The old bot watched as Ratchet was stuck between hoping at such a possibility and wanting to bash a wrench into his CPU. Kup didn't see what the problem was. They'd get something to harvest his surplus spark energy, feed it to a femme so that she could have her sparkling, and there would be no permanent bond. All Kup would ask for was to be the little one's regular caretaker. He had no desire for a full time bond or parenting – that and he was too old. He was one of the fifth generation of Cybertronians, he had been sparked by the All-Spark just after the Quintessons decided to let them go free.

Ratchet sighed again, air whistling slightly as it whispered against the metal of his vents. "Fine. I'll try. But if you get hurt…and good luck convincing a femme to just absorb random spark energy."

Kup smirked around his cy-gar. "Don't you worry Hatchet – I know just the one."

**

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Jazz

The suave silver Solstice had arrived in the rec-room amongst cheers for a job well done. Feeling more than satisfied, he sauntered through the booths, checking his own handiwork. How he had set it all up…well, a saboteur never tells his secrets. As he went for the energon dispenser, he spotted Leo-rah and yanked her from her conversation from Beta and Virgo.

"Hey!" the smaller femme protested.

"Ah'm sure they'll understand. Ah want to know…didja get the vid?"

Glancing around cautiously, Leo-rah replied, "Yes, I got it. He…I mean she – had quite the reaction. Give me a sec, I'll uplink it to you." The yellow femme popped open a wrist hatch to uncoil a data cable, holding it in front of her and waiting for Jazz to open up his own wrist hatch where a data port was located underneath. Jazz hesitated for a moment, but obligingly opened his own data transfer hatch.

"Careful not to enforce the data too much into mah systems. Spec ops an' all," mentioned Jazz, taking the cable and plugging it in. The data package quickly streamed between them and Jazz cut off the link as soon as the last part of the coding concluded.

Flashing a dazzling grin, Jazz went on, "By the way, a little birdie told meh that Optimus and Elita are plannin' to reveal certain things at tomorrow's party. So make sure ya and the rest of ya girls are around for the reveal." He tapped his wrist hatch knowingly.

Beaming back mischievously, Leo-rah said, "A little preview perhaps? Oh…and what's a little birdie?"

Jazz snickered, "You bet doll. And if you wanna know what a birdie is…" Jazz paused and pointed a thub over his shoulder, "there's a booth Ah set up on native flora and fauna and other organic stuff. It's there. Catcha later Leo-rah."

"Ciao Jazz."

Flashing one side of his visor in a wink, the silver bot replied wryly, "Ah see you've visited the Italian booth." But inside Jazz was almost jumping for joy. He doubted that Prowl would be able to ignore the elation over their brother-bond he was so happy! His 'fun week' was working well, he had just received some awesome video footage, and if he played it right, would get a date soon too.

Things were looking up!

Strong, sure legs ran through the grass, hoping to reach the co-ordinates and have the meeting before Arcee or Firestar knew she was gone. Flare-up kept looking over her shoulder every now and then, proximity scanners almost running ragged, she had run them so many times in the past 15 minutes. Now she was in the forest, which had been touched and slightly dusted with the substance called 'snow,' leaving footmarks behind her. But she didn't care. She needed to see him.

Moonlight dappled her crimson and orange armour, staining it with the silvery white light as she moved like a wraith through the trees, careful not to snap any twigs to be cautious. When she vented, puffs of air crystallised and were visible. Nothing was in her processor or spark now other than to see the one who she was surprised to miss.

Finally! The shape of Barricade came into view, and she ran into his open arms, seeking the protection she had become accustomed to.

"Are you ok? In trouble with Megatron?" she asked frantically, optics scanning his frame to search for any injuries. She felt more than saw his shake of side to side in a 'no.'

"I'm fine. I just…I can't believe how I have adjusted to you in my life," the Decepticon said softly. Placing a tender hand over Flare-up's chestplates, he asked, crimson optics as soft as his voice, "How is she?"

Joining their hands together over the chestplates, Flare-up replied, smile on her face, "Yeah, Ratchet checked her out and she's fine. My escape didn't stress her out. I got to make the design of the protoform yesterday. Here." The small orange and red femme sent her bondmate the schematics she had downloaded into her memory files through the bond. It was a mental thought picture of them.

Barricade 'saw' the little sparkling shell and his trademark ghost of a smile flitted across his faceplates. "She looks beautiful. Do you have a name in mind?"

Caressing his faceplates, the femme nodded, "Yes. I was thinking of Ember."

"And why that name?"

"Because in the flare up of passion, it dwindles down to a staying, steadfast ember. This is a part of both of us…our little Ember…" Flare-up trailed off uncertainly, looking for approval.

"I like the words. I believe they are from the philosopher Changeling, correct?" At the wide-eyed nod of his smaller bondmate, Barricade dropped a kiss on the top of her helm. "I like it. It's simple and strong. Thank you, my little Flare," the police Con replied, using his nickname for Flare-up.

Their embrace turned more sensual as Barricade slipped his fingers from their innocent resting place on her red shoulders, down her sides, making her shiver in anticipation, and down to the wires in her hips. Lipplates whispered across her audio, "We have a little time…let's _enjoy _ourselves." Lipplates found each other, connected, bringing sensors to life as their glossas tangled.

Flare-up surrendered willingly. She knew their situation was precarious. So there, under the light of the frosty moon, she gave her body freely as he have his own, forgetting again time, faction, differences, although it lingered like a bitter taste. The moon as their witness, they were what was good in the universe…care, protectiveness, and an element of love. And when they came apart, it was with coolant tears from Flare-up as she dragged herself from her other half, someone who was fatally attracted to her, and her to him.

With the only reminder to both was the ember she carried within.

**

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A/N: I'm not going to write a smut scene for that which I wrote above. I'm sure people can all use their imaginations. I know this chappie was a bit jumpy, but it's all connecting storylines I'm going to start/finish/continue/allude to. -_- You get the deal yah? And…isn't the review button just so….clickable? ;)

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That night


	20. Party

Hold on, if you thought chapter 18 or 13 were long…wait for this one. I swear it's a story in its own right. I do not own the lyrics to Evanescence "Sweet Sacrifice," but I do own the lyrics to "Up, Up, Up." It's a song I wrote and is copyrighted to my real name. I don't own INXS (need you tonight) or Adam Lambert (For your entertainment). The rest of the disclaimers you know.

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Of Femmes and Sparklings – Chapter 20 – Party

**Morning- Medbay**

Two of the indomitable commander femmes of the Autobot army stood patiently in the early morning, waiting for the wonderful sparkling personality of their CMO to grace them. Elita-1, knowing no fear, was bored as she waited for the wrench-throwing medic. Chromia, however, was more wary. She had once woken Ratchet up in the middle of the night as a dare. She had never attempted anything of the sort ever again. Ratchet with not enough recharge was a force to be reckoned with.

Footfalls and a spark signature made itself recognized.

"Right, you both have about 5-6 days till your systems start signalling that your sparks have split from the spark of your sparkling," the chartreuse medic began brusquely, not even bothering to greet them. "Until that time, you may be feeling a 'heavy' feeling in your chestplates as the sparkling orb continues to grow. What I'm here to tell you about today is about the feeding latch that your spark energies will activate once the sparkling has been taken out of the spark chamber and on-lined. With me so far?" he asked the rose commander and her pale dusky blue 2IC. They both inclined their heads in a nod.

Pointing to his wrist, demonstrating, Ratchet said, "Just above our data exchange cables and ports, is a small closed metal plate, beneath which is a small tube with mesh on the end." Turning around, he pulled up a diagram on his data terminal and showed both femmes.

Continuing with his lecturing tone, Ratchet went on. "After it activates, your sparkling will feed from the tube for the first two weeks of being online until they can handle the sparkling-grade energon. As femmes, your systems have a datafile that activates once you have a sparkling – it causes the line that runs into the tube," tapping his wrist, "to refine the energon down to such a degree that it is fine for a newly on-lined sparkling to drink. After the approximate two weeks, then your sparkling can start to drink sparkling grade energon. It is an automated system with femmes, but mechs need the datafile downloaded by a medic for them to have the feeding tube actually online and extend. My question is: would you like me to download the files for Optimus and Ironhide?"

"Yes without a doubt," replied Elita immediately. She knew that Optimus would miss no opportunity to care for their little mech in any way possible, and that this would be no exception.

With a grin, Chromia also replied, "I'd love to see some of the looks on other mechs faces when they see a trigger-happy Ironhide feed his sparkling." Ratchet smirked at that, but knew that when the time came he'd not be the one to talk. He'd already downloaded the file.

"Very well. By my medical scans, both sparkling orbs are fine, and you are both free to go." The femmes were off, leaving Ratchet for his next appointment with the other expecting femmes. Not even a minute after Elita and Chromia had gone off to their light duty, Firestar and Flare-up walked in. Nodding a greeting, being a little more awake now and more courteous than earlier, he gave the same lecture as he had before to the two femmes.

When he got to the part about asked Firestar if she wanted Inferno to have the feeling line, he noticed Flare-up go unnaturally still. The small orange and red bike was usually in motion, at least one part of her. So when she was still, those who knew her noticed. Firestar shot a concerned glance her way.

"It's ok," Flare-up said softly, trying not to think of the secret rendezvous she and her bondmate had last night.

Firestar looked on concernedly for a little more, but turned back to the CMO and nodded her affirmation of the request. The red fire rescue femme wanted her large, loving, protective sparkmate to feel the closeness of what they, in their love, created. She felt the most spark-felt pity for her young friend, who would not have the pleasure of that one simple thing – to have her bondmate by her side.

After his lecture, Ratchet reached for the nearby spark scanner and switched it on, and asking kindly, "Are you ready to see what gender your sparkling is?"

The spirits of both femmes perked and Firestar nodded. Ratchet scanned over her chestplates, quickly deciphering the glyphs scrolling itself over the screen. Firestar was practically hanging on the edge now, wondering what the CMO had found. She was almost ready to beg him to let her know _now_ before her building curiosity burst, when he smiled a genuine smile and said, "Congratulations to you and Inferno. You are having a femme."

Firestar thanked Ratchet briefly before sprinting out, wanting to find Inferno to tell him the news. Also leaving, before Ratchet could prompt her to tell him about her relationship with Barricade, Flare-up thanked him also and slipped out.

Stepping out from a private room, Moonracer came to her sparkmate's side and slipped her arms around his waist. "Don't fret Ratch…Flare-up is young, she will talk to Cancera or Tauri soon."

"I know, but you know me."

"Yes, I do," the pale mint green femme smiled as Ratchet drew a warm arm around her frame to reach her cheek ridge for a light peck. "Now sweet spark, I believe that we should find out the gender of this sparkling we have made."

"Yes, we should," Ratchet replied, a little teasingly, back. Picking up the scanner and running the program, he didn't look at the screen like he had done for Firestar's, but had his optics locked on Moonracer's, one hand intertwined with hers and rubbing soothing circles. The scanner beeped softly, drawing their attention. There was silence all around them as Ratchet flicked through the data. Then an overjoyed grin spread across his usually weary faceplates, much like he had when he had woken up the day after they had bonded.

"We're having a femme Moonie," whispered Ratchet reverently, putting down the scanner and tracing a hand over the smooth chestplates in rapturous wonder.

"We're having a femme," the femme breathed back, optics dimming as she looked down to where Ratchet's dextrous fingers were softly sweeping in the spot above her spark on the outer armour. The situation registered itself in her processor and she jumped up, legs wrapping around her surprised sparkmate as she shrieked happily, "WE'RE HAVING A FEMME!"

Ratchet recovered from his surprise and laughed, capturing her lipplates with his own, and feeding love through their bond, overwhelming her with the slide of emotions. Spinning her around, Ratchet whispered through their bond, '_I love you…so much.'_

"Love you too sweet spark. What do you say we visit our little femme's Uncle Wheeljack?" suggested Moonracer, excited at the prospect of creating the protoform of their sparkling. Absorbing the excitement of his mate via osmosis through the bond, the medic nodded, and calling First Aid or Jolt for their shift, swept Moonracer out the door with him, nothing in his CPU now than the joy that sang through them both, a shining light in their lifestreams.

**

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Prowl

The no nonsense 2IC was striding down the hall with Tauri to his office, drinking his morning ration of energon. His sparkmate was just walking with him, in silence, albeit not an uncomfortable one, simply taking the time to enjoy being with him. They hadn't seen each other yesterday, for Prowl had spent the day with Bluestreak, paying some much needed guardian attention on him.

After Bluestreak had come back from the attraction of Jazz's booths, Prowl had cleared his entire schedule, delegating much of his work of the day to Smokescreen and an underling. He and Bluestreak had gone to the shooting range, Prowl challenging Bluestreak to beat him by more than 10 points. While Prowl was a fantastic shot – he had been the one to teach Bluestreak – he did not have the same innate ability at targeting that the young gunner did. Bluestreak had accepted the challenge with his usual zeal and had risen to the occasion. He had beaten Prowl by 12 points. He had been 1 point away from perfect on all targets.

The tactician had planned it that way – for shooting to be the first activity. It would focus Blue's jittery mind, and make the healing stage easier when they talked. After the range, Prowl had taken his younger charge outside and had climbed on a small ledge of a short cliff. Sitting in companionable silence, the two Praxians had enjoyed the view before Prowl had prompted Bluestreak to talk.

And talk he did. Like Prowl had planned, Bluestreak was more calm and collected, and through talking, chased his demons away temporarily. The young gunner then mentioned that Aquaris wanted to talk to him. The black and white had encouraged him, knowing not all of the problem was out.

And now Prowl was with Tauri. Being with Bluestreak was always great, but it wasn't until he had seen the silver femme that morning with energon for him that he realised how comfortable around Tauri he was. And how _attracted_ he had become. Something primal had been unleashed within him in his Praxian courting programming and in his own natural programming. Seeing her this morning at his door with energon had him fantasizing about knocking the cube out of her hands, pressing her to the wall and kissing her senseless until her kneejoints went weak.

But he had controlled it. Darting a glance towards her now, he found himself admiring her high cheekridges and lively sapphire optics. The grace in her walk, slim legs powering her, through the silver plated abdomen and chestplate. As far as chestplates went, it was slightly smaller than average, but it enhanced her personality as far as he was concerned. Too much bigger and it wouldn't suit her.

Turning his head slightly to watch her as she took a slow sip of her energon, Prowl found himself having to take control again. A trickle had found its way around her lipplates, crept down her chin and onto the chestplate he had been admiring not even a few seconds ago. The tactician found another fantasy popping up in his processor, of stopping her in the hallway to lick up every drop of that small spill from her body, not caring who saw.

"Oh damn," she swore softly, dabbing at the energon, unsubspacing a handy towel and wiping it up. Feeling Prowl's gaze, she looked up, seeing his expression and canted her head to the side, asking, "Prowl…you ok?"

Shaking his helm slightly to clear it, he replied, "Yes, thank you."

'_Acting like a young mech who just discovered his interface array…hmpf!'_ he scolded himself. Upon reaching his office, they were met with a silver saboteur.

"Hey Prowl and Tauri, what's up?" greeted Jazz.

Confused, Prowl answered, "The ceiling, Jazz. What else would be up?"

To the tactician's continuing befuddlement, both Jazz and Tauri began to laugh. "Prowl, Ah didn't mean literally. It's Earth slang for 'what's goin' on.'"

"Oh."

Still giggling, Tauri pecked him on the cheek and said "I've got light duty on the monitors with Flare-up. I'll see you later." As Prowl looked after her silver form disappearing down the hallway, he felt Jazz nudge him, smirking.

"So…my mistletoe worked then?" asked Jazz, still smirking with glee.

"Yes it did, but I would like it if you wouldn't something like that again," replied Prowl mildly, though reaching up to deliver a light cuff to Jazz's helm. The silver mech followed his bond-brother into his office, gracefully falling into a seat. Prowl rounded the desk and sank into his own seat opposite, getting started on his work for the day.

Visor lighting up playfully, Jazz said, "Ah've got a real party goin' on tonight…you comin'? Ah've asked Muse 'n' Lyrica to perform a few songs and they agreed. An' besides, I reckon you 'n' Tauri'll like it."

"As long as I finish all my work-"

"Which you do anyway," interrupted Jazz.

"-then I may come to view the proceedings," finished Prowl, ignoring his companions remark. But in Prowl's processor, an idea formed and he changed his stance spontaneously (making his own battle computer scream in protest) on the party and he said, hand rising to halt Jazz, "Actually, I will be there, on the proviso that you play this track." The black and white reached into his desk drawer, to pull out a datachip from where he had placed it the day before, and gave it to Jazz.

Eyeing it curiously, Jazz asked, "Ya got a particular moment ya want me to play it?"

His mouthplates quirked at the side as he replied, "Yes. When I signal you. You'll know."

**

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Bluestreak

Pressing the door chime to the aqua femme medic quarters a little nervously, Bluestreak wondered if he should be doing this. He had doubts whether she would be able to help him as well as Prowl did yesterday. Just the memory of spending time with his mentor sent warm feelings through his spark. The gunner started slightly when the door cycled open abruptly to reveal Aquaris sitting calmly on her own small couch, Cancera leaning on the arm rest by her side. Bluestreak froze momentarily, doorwings angling up in surprise. Aquaris had not mentioned bringing in her sister.

Amber optics fell on him and Aquaris called softly, "Come in please. I hope you don't feel too uncomfortable with Cancera here – I thought she could help."

Blue hesitated but still walked in, moving to sit down next to the aqua femme while eying off the grass green one. They sat down in silence for a long while, making Bluestreak do nothing but twiddle his thumbs and look everywhere in the room apart from the femmes, before Cancera said quietly, "I've got it."

"Uh, got what?" Bluestreak asked nervously. Cancera said nothing, but sat down in front of him on a low table, optics intense and searching – caring. Bluestreak got the impression like she had known him his entire lifestream.

"The most obvious thing that I can pick up is that any trauma you have had stems from the attack on Praxus, you were one of 27 survivors," the grass green femme began. A wide-opticed Bluestreak was about to babble questions, but Cancera shook her head for silence. "Please, let me finish my observations. Now, you have many friends, but you are close enough to discuss your problems with only a few. Night terror fluxes inflict you, mostly around times of battle and uncertainty. And with your trauma, you cannot control your vocaliser most of the time because of a need to get everything out for the bot you are talking to, just in case that it's too late for whom you are talking to. You want them to know that you cared just to talk, before they die…because…you never had the chance with someone you loved."

Bluestreak's optics widened to their furthest extent. It's like she had peered into his spark and read what had been engrained into him. As far as he knew, no-one but Prowl knew about...about….the names were too painful even now. A dam broke inside of him, and he dropped his helm into his hands, vulnerable and pained from having this femme find the key to unlock all his hurt, and began to sob.

He only dimly registered Cancera leaving the room and comforting arms curling around him to pull him into their side. Bluestreak continued to leak coolant tears from his optics while Aquaris had taken the shaken and distraught mech into her arms and rubbed his chevron, hoping to calm him down so she could talk to him just as a friend. She really didn't want to use the sedatives she had brought for 'just in case.'

However it seemed like Primus had a different plan for today. When Aquaris brushed his chestplates to embrace him, energy arced between them, signifying that their sparks were compatible…the virus had struck again. Bluestreak didn't seem to notice however, too much in shock from what Cancera had told about him. Aquaris however, tensed in surprise as she felt the discharge of energy leave her. Knowing that now was not the time, she ignored the phenomena momentarily.

Hoping to lighten his mood fractionally, Aquaris mentioned, "Cancera is good like that. In just observing, her empathy can unravel the most closed of sparks so they are like an open book to her. She makes herself feel what others do. Like an emotional telepathy."

"I…I can't believe she read so correctly into my problems, it's like you said like she has telepathy. Has she always been able to do that because it seems like she could help sort out everyone's problems all the time if that is true," said Bluestreak, tears slowing down to nothing.

Smiling faintly, Aquaris supplied, "She's always like that. Just by observing others, she knows just what ails them and what they need. In battle though, she uses it to her advantage, striking the weak places revealed by her emotional pickups. So yes, she does help us to solve our problem, but she cannot take others all the way. You have to find what's in here," she laid a hand over his chestplates, "and use it to chase your demons away."

Bluestreak shivered slightly, embarrassed by acting like a youngling in crying so openly with someone he didn't know particularly well. Bringing up a grey hand to dry his optics, the gunner wondered if he should tell her…after all…Cancera had already let out his greatest secret.

"Blue?" the femme asked softly.

"C-can I trust you?"

Making an undignified snort, Aquaris replied carelessly, sarcastically, "Sure. Medical confidentiality and all that. Otherwise I'd tell."

Realising upon seeing the mech's nervousness, she reiterated gently this time, "Bluestreak, the whole point of a secret is to keep it hidden, no matter how embarrassing or hurtful it is…and personally and professionally, as long as this secret is not putting everyone in danger, I will never tell another spark. Ok? I wouldn't do such a thing to another Autobot, I swear on the Well of Sparks."

Nodding into the aqua-coloured shoulder he was leaning against, Bluestreak began to speak, trying his hardest not to prattle on in his usual fashion. "The orn that Praxus was destroyed, I had an argument with my c-carrier and c-c-creator." The young gunner winced as he felt his vocaliser stutter again. "I was a y-youngling and I was a little fussy sometimes, and in this orn they didn't let me go out with my friends because I hadn't drunk my nutrient energon. It was really disgusting which is why I didn't drink it, though my fussy tank needed it. I yelled at them that they didn't love me c-cos they didn't want me to have fun." His vocaliser was beginning to wobble his words dangerously.

"So…I tell them that I don't love them anymore too…and leave the house trying to go after my friends. Th-that's w-w-when I heard the s-seeker engines and the b-b-bombs…" Bluestreak trailed off as his memory files flashed on his HUD, remembering the city klaxons blaring, the _whoosh-BANG! _of bullets and bombs as they went off. He recalled the alley walls he was in at the time – taking a shortcut to the park – shaking uncontrollably, his own screams as they collapsed around him in a protective cocoon as the city around him was destroyed.

Aquaris watched in alarm was Blue curled in on himself in memory and began to rock back and forth, soft keens emitting from his vocaliser – so different from his keens when she had been intimate with him. The aqua femme moved to him again, hugging him fiercely.

Feeling her touch, Bluestreak came back to himself and forced himself to continue.

"I…fell offline through most of the a-a-attack. I remember w-waking up amongst fogs of crystal dust settling. It was ho-horrifyingly b-beautiful. I felt deadness in my spark, where my creator and carrier were. I don't remember running through the c-city, through t-the puddles of e-energon of dead b-b-bots. I just remember c-coming to my h-house – destroyed c-completely. My c-creator and c-carrier were together…b-b-barely al-alive. T-t-together n-near the doorway. I…remember crying, flinging my body o-over theirs a-and just s-s-aying s-s-sor-ry over and o-over again. W-with their l-last s-strength in their sparks, they f-fed their l-love into me b-b-before finally d-d-d-de-activating," Bluestreak choked up, unable to cry anymore because of the anguish of the memory.

Looking into Aquaris's teary amber optics with his own, Bluestreak sobbed dry tears, "I-…I never told t-them I l-loved them b-b-fore they w-went. I _never told them!_ I t-tried to s-speak quick e-enough, but i-it never got out. I felt l-like such a bad c-creation. They l-l-left without k-knowing I l-loved them."

"No Blue! They knew," stressed the medic, alarmed for the poor mech, "in their sparks they knew I bet. I don't know from personal experience of being a carrier, but they would have known that you loved them. Because you went back for them, even being as young as you were." Bluestreak curled into her slightly larger frame even more, seeking more of that comfort. Knowing his circuits would overheat from his continued anxiety, she reached over to the low table and retrieved one of the sedatives.

"I s-still feel horrible, a-after all these years," whispered Bluestreak, "and you may be right, b-but it doesn't ch-change that I d-didn't say 'I l-love you' in t-time."

"What were their names? I know it might be hard but…"

"Hotstreak w-was my carrier…while Bluewing w-was my creator, because he had blue doorwings," Bluestreak dutifully explained. Aquaris nodded, now stroking down his back. Bluestreak's emotional anguish dimmed in the slightest degree as another memory hit him, more recent than his childhood, of when the aqua femme had touched him like that before. In that back room, clean and ordered because Aquaris had never used it for the purpose they had…

"Blue, you've been very brave in telling me this, but I would like to sedate you if you would allow me. Your heating levels from anxiety are awfully high, because the hurt is from your spark. It will give you time to recover slightly. Will you allow me?" Aquaris explained patiently, softly. Bluestreak nodded. Medics knew best. There was emotional anguish, a slight prick in an energon line, and then the feeling of floating before his systems shut down exhaustedly.

The aqua femme medic eased the recharging mech off her frame, smiling sadly, "You've made progress Blue." She wiped the coolant tracks off the lax faceplates and drew a blanket around him, leaving a small cube of energon on the low table when he would wake. And then, and only then, did she let the gathering coolant tears of her own fall silently down her face.

Aquaris was also wondering what she would do. She was compatible with him and he didn't know. '_Should I tell him?'_ she thought leaving the room. She was glad to leave and go to the medbay. It would distract her from the poor grey and blue mech in her room.

**

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Ultra Magnus

Steering the ship down into the hangar in the Autobot valley, powdered in snow, the large blue and white mech was relieved to see the signs of their new home. It had been excruciating to come back from Cybertron, for Springer and Hot Rod had ceased to speak to each other. He had warned Arcee, who saw him as a mentor, not to go for a mech's best friend. Did she listen to her processor? No. She had listened to her spark. But Magnus could not condemn her for that. When you were a simple soldier – like he was – then sometimes you just wanted to listen to your spark.

But it had made the inside of their vessel feel like it had been dipped in ice. Springer and Hot Rod had not even _looked_ at each other, apart from when they had to. It had began after Springer had confronted Hot Rod about his relationship with Acree just before they left Cybertron, from the successful mission. It had escalated from there.

Seeing Prowl and Prime waiting for them to disembark had Magnus wanting to crawl out in relief and kiss the both of them. The tension was so thick between the two wreckers behind him they would have needed Ratchet's buzzsaws to crack through it.

Reaching the bottom of the gangplank, Magnus saluted his commanders sharply and reported, "Mission was a complete success, no injuries sustained and required quantity of mineral ores and metals obtained."

"Very good Magnus," acknowledged Prowl, checking something off with a stylus on his datapad, nodding to Optimus.

"Springer and Hot Rod, you can go into the main base. Magnus, please stay," ordered Optimus, faceplates, like Prowl completely neutral. The orange flamed young mech and the older green one left hurriedly in opposite directions, not even nodding a farewell as they hastened to get the pit away from each other. Magnus made an audible sigh of relief as soon as they were out of earshot.

"You cannot believe how unbearable the trip back to Earth was. I was ready to sing praises to Primus when we touched down," sighed the city commander, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension gathered there in the muscle cables. Optimus chuckled a little, saying, "Elita told me about it. While it is a little amusing, I hope Arcee hasn't bitten off more than she can chew with those two."

"Hmm. Magnus, Optimus, I will ask Red Alert to keep an optic on them. Magnus, I would like your report to be on my desk by tomorrow if possible," said Prowl, saluting his comrades in farewell.

Now that there was no-one around, the two large mechs embraced each other. "Ah, Magnus my friend, there has been no end to my adventures here on Earth." Optimus slung a friendly hand over Ultra Magnus's shoulders as he spoke, "I have good news. Elita and I are expecting a little mech."

The taller of the two mechs smiled and slapped his friend on the back. "All the more congratulations to you both. Is anyone else sparked and expecting?" Magnus enquired as they walked outside the base, wanting to talk in private.

"Yes. Ironhide and Chromia are due a day after Elita. Firestar and Inferno, Ratchet and Moonracer are around the same time. And Flare-up on the same day as Elita. Elita let a specialised team infiltrate the Decepticon base – and we now know it's location – where they found Flare-up with her bondmate, Barricade," explained Optimus, settling down on the powdered snow ground, Magnus doing the same actions next to him.

Antennae pitching forward in surprise, Magnus asked, "So the virus _is_ deemed to be real? Well, in Flare-up's case, at least it's Barricade."

Frowning, Optimus replied, "Yes. But, what do you know of Barricade? He seems like a regular Decepticon to me and to Autobot intelligence files."

"Hmm, must remind me to update them. Hook and Barricade are the safest Decepticons in the ranks. Hook's gotten too jaded with war, and Barricade has some compassion. Nine times out of ten Barricade will perform mercy killings on those whom he fights or targets, but tries as hard as he can to completely avoid deactivating an adversary. Extended torture is not his thing. Also, whenever he visited the pleasure houses on Cybertron, the pleasure bots liked him the best out of any Decepticon that visited them. Not sadistic and respected them," informed Magnus leaning back on his hands, optics scanning the environment.

Wryly smirking, Optimus asked, "It was a rather clever idea to have some spies in pleasure houses wasn't it?"

"I'm surprised that Prowl actually came up with it and not crashing his processor."

"The move was logical. Only femmes who were paid would be with a Decepticon, and thinking they are safe in a pleasure house, might blab battle plans in the post haze. It was just surprising to Prowl himself that he didn't exploit that weakness sooner. But in any case, from what Elita has been telling me, Barricade actually cared for Flare-up. Apparently she pines for him. I find it slightly strange," mused Optimus, looking up at an icy blue sky.

Magnus retorted, "Love is a strange thing my friend. I still don't understand why you fell for the scary one, even if she is beautiful."

Playfully nudging a shoulderstack, Optimus chuckled, "When you feel it one day Magnus, you'll understand. Who knows, with this virus, there will be a femme for you, and we can have mini-Magnus's going around squeaking, 'I'm not the city commanders son, I'm just a sparkling!'"

Slightly affronted, Ultra Magnus said, "Just because I insist that I'm a mere soldier-"

"Should be your catchphrase," interrupted Optimus, snorting in an un-Primely manner.

"-doesn't mean I like the ridicule."

Optics still glinting with mirth, the Autobot leader ceased in his light teasing, and informed the slightly older mech, "You've missed two days of festivities. Come to the party tonight, no doubt Jazz is going to make it interesting. I think also he has planned a nature tour tomorrow and a meeting with a few of our human friends the day after. After such a successful mission, I'd like you to relax. Don't make me make it an order."

"No, wouldn't want you to do that. I wonder if a party will make this issue with Springer, Arcee and Hot Rod go away. It's getting me a processor ache," grumbled Magnus.

**

* * *

**

Arcee

'_Oh slag oh slag oh slag oh slag!'_ Arcee thought, panicked, '_Silly fragging Hot Rod couldn't keep his mouth shut!'_ The pink motorbike had been warned by her commander that Springer had found out of her going out with Hot Rod after him. Although she and Springer had been completely broken up at the time, she knew he still considered her 'his.' She had broken up with Hot Rod too, but only because she really didn't have the time. Now that she did, she found herself wondering…if she had to choose, who would she pick?

It seemed like Primus had a sense of humour that day, or was simply bored, for at both ends of the hallway she was in came Hot Rod and Springer, determined on her form. Knowing that there was no way out of it, the pink femme waited for her ex's to join her.

"How come you didn't tell me you went out with him!" both mechs cried out in unison, pointing accusing fingers at each other when they reached Arcee.

"I thought you were my friend! What sort of friend goes out with his friend's ex?" yelled Springer, balling up his fists.

"Hey! You guys were WAY over, and any bot could see that, and I liked her anyway so I thought I'd take a chance! You should of held on if you wanted her that badly!" the younger mech argued back, optics beginning to blaze in anger.

They stepped towards each other, and Arcee jumped in between them to prevent them from coming to blows. Snarling, the bigger green mech said, "Doesn't matter. You don't go and frag a friends ex, even though all the times I talked to you about regretting the decision to break up? I _confided in you_, Hot Rod, and it can't be forgiven."

"It's not like I didn't treat her right! And-" Hot Rod's angered retort was cut off when he found himself, along with Springer, crashing to the floor.

Arcee found her assertiveness, and looking uncharacteristically irritated, said, "If you two don't stop acting like a big pair of sparklings fighting over a dummy, I will blast you both into next week! And if there is one thing you both forgot in your petty little argument, it's that _**I**_ was the one to get it on and break it up with you both. _**I**_ was the instigator. My choice, not yours, who I wanted to be with. Now leave me the Pit alone, unless you want your interface hardware _cut off!'_ With a growl, the smaller pink femme stalked away, leaving two very surprised and confused mechs behind her.

**

* * *

**

That night – the party

Stepping on the stage with his sparkmate, Optimus felt excited anticipation rise within him as he looked over the crowd of Autobots, only a few missing to do patrols just in case. Elita was next to him, also observing the crowd like the proud commander she was. The chattering of the Autobots ceased as the leader's stood, waiting for quiet. Once they were, Optimus amplified his voice in his regal baritone and began to speak.

"I hope that tonight will be a night of joy, laughter, contentedness, and peace. We have all gone too long without a good party." Chuckles followed the statement. "But this is not just a celebration tonight for enjoying the culture of Earth music and dance. We are also celebrating the beginning of a month of truce, of peace without Decepticon interruption!"

Whistles and cheers roared from the assembled crowd. Raising his arms for silence once more, Optimus gestured for Elita to speak. Stepping forward smoothly, the rose coloured femme beamed out at her comrades. "Also, unknown to most of you, we have sought and found the retaliation deserved for Starscream due to the virus." Also holding up a hand before the Autobots could cheer, she went on, mirth colouring the tone of her voice, "Three days ago, a select group of femmes managed to infiltrate the previously hidden Decepticon base and…" pausing for effect, "turned Starscream…into a femme!"

As shocked gasps and choking laughter and giggles echoed around the rec-room a large screen slid down from a ceiling near the wall. All the bots turned toward it, as Leo-Rah and Jazz caught each other's optics with gleeful grins. The screen started playing footage from a small camera that Leo-Rah had placed on the wall opposite Starscream's berth. Shocked and gleefully wide optics watched as a newly femme Starscream woke up, watched Elita's message, came to the realisation that she was now a complete femme, and ran into another room. Some bots had their jaws open in disbelief, while other were laughing uproariously at the expressions and actions of the Seeker. It only got better when Megatron, Soundwave, and Starscream's two trinemates came in and saw Starscream.

Even Delira, who hardly ever laughed in pure mirth, Huffer and Gears were laughing. The laughter increased when they heard and saw Soundwave crash from the shock of seeing a femme Starscream.

Over the laughter and shock, Ultra Magnus boomed out, "Three cheers for the femmes!"

"Til' all are one! Til' all are one! **Til' all are one!**" the room echoed and shook with the force of with which it is said. As the screen slid up, Jazz bounded onto the stage next to his commanders, calling for silence.

"Ah know that we have already got ya guys in a good mood, so let me keep the good stuff comin', as I introduce, for the first time in a long time, the musical twins, Muse 'n' Lyrica, performing for ya tonight!" Jazz called, to even more cheers. As he and the two satisfied commanders made their way off stage, Muse and Lyrica stepped on, the spotlights Jazz had set up glinting off the high-quality wax they had used.

Grabbing her microphone confidently, Muse pumped a fist in the air and shouted, "Are we feeling good tonight bots?" Hoots and hollers rushed at her from the crowd. The red swirled femme grinned at Lyrica, her purple swirls enhanced by the wax. They had missed the feeling of performing, of the crowd chanting their names as they sang.

"We have a new song for you tonight, and it describes how Muse and I felt when we first discovered the news of Starscream's virus. This is one of our darker songs, and it's called, '_Sweet Sacrifice,_'" introduced Lyrica, optics unconsciously searching for Sideswipe in the crowd.

The lights dimmed, causing the assembled Autobots to wait quietly in anticipation. The music started, Muse beginning in a haunting voice;

'_It's true…we're all a little insane,'_  
_But it's so clear,  
Now that I'm unchained.  
_

Lyrica broke in to sing with her twin: _Fear is only in our minds,  
Taking over all the time.  
Fear is only in our minds but it's taking over all the time.  
_

Restrained anger filled their shared chorus as Muse bent over, singing into the crowd, rage on her face as she _felt_ the music.

_You poor sweet innocent thing.  
Dry your eyes and testify.  
You know you live to break me. Don't deny.  
Sweet sacrifice.  
_

Muse stepped back, letting Lyrica take the next verse.

_One day I'm gonna forget your name,  
And one sweet day, you're gonna drown in my lost pain. _

The higher sweetness in Lyricas voice was harmonious, though different, from the deeper tone in her twin. Sideswipe watched, enthralled, as Lyrica swayed slightly, optics shuttering as she reached the higher notes against the heavy beat of rock. Sunstreaker, too, was enraptured by the fierce performance of Muse as the emotion carried so perfectly in her vocaliser. His gaze was intense as their optics found each other momentarily just before the pre-chorus._  
_

_Together: Fear is only in our minds,  
Taking over all the time.  
Fear is only in our minds but it's taking over all the time.  
_

_Together: You poor sweet innocent thing.  
Dry your eyes and testify.  
And oh you love to hate me don't you, honey?  
I'm your sacrifice._

As Lyrica continued in a long, high, drawn out note, Muse sang the overlap:

_(I dream in darkness  
I sleep to die,  
Erase the silence,  
Erase my life,  
Our burning ashes  
Blacken the day,  
A world of nothingness,  
Blow me away.)  
_

_Together: Do you wonder why you hate?  
Are you still too weak to survive your mistakes?  
_

_Together: You poor sweet innocent thing.  
Dry your eyes and testify.  
You know you live to break me.  
Don't deny.  
Sweet sacrifice._

After finishing the last note, the sisters took each other's hands and raised them, as the 'bots below them cheered and stamped their feet in honour of the new song. "Thank you!" Muse shouted to the applause. Before the crowd could quiet down again, new song music started, the song that had began the twins career: "Up, Up, Up."

Grinning at Muse, Lyrica waited for the guitar intro to finish and sang. Just by the beginning notes, you could tell this song was pure pop rock.

'_Get me up, get me jumpin'_

_You got me movin' around._

_Sound of a bass guitar to rock 'n' roll ground._

_Flows through my head,_

_Flows through my spark._

_E-lect-ricity waiting to start!'_

Raising both of their voices, they rocked out.

'_Up, up, up, that's what I wanna say,_

_Out with the old,_

_In with the new._

_Beats thrumming through me, _

_Drums thrashing with me._

_And I say, I say!_

_Rock away!'_

Muse took the second verse, hand in the air.

_Starts as flame, grows to inferno,_

_You keep pullin' me with that rock 'n' roll sound._

_Invades my head,_

_Screws up my spark._

_E-lect-ricity waiting to start!'_

The femmes came together for the chorus again, before both alternating the lyrics on the third verse as they put on a show, joyously dancing across the stage as they sang.

'_Kaleidoscope of many sounds_

_Entraps me, controls me_

_I'll be a different Autobot tomorrow…_

_But hey…_

_I say, I say, I say, I say baby,_

_I say, I say, I say, I say baby,_

_ROCK AWAY!_

They sang the chorus once more, Autobots who knew it joining in on the song now, filling the room with a crescendo of rock.

'_Up, up, up, that's what I wanna say,_

_Out with the old,_

_In with the new._

_Beats thrumming through me, _

_Drums thrashing with me._

_And I say, I say!_

_Rock away!'_

The song finished to even more raucous applause. There had been so much that night that the sound of metal hands clapping seemed to be engrained in their audios. Muse and Lyrica stood on the stage triumphantly, identical grins on their faces as they stepped down. Sideswipe was at the base, waiting for Lyrica to give her a delighted hug.

"That was amazing, both of you!" praised Sideswipe. Lyrica hugged Sideswipe back as Jazz, meanwhile, swung himself back up onto the stage, trademark grin in place as he rolled out a DJ booth.

Visor bright, Jazz announced, "Let's get this party started!" He started to play Usher "DJ got us falling in love" and while many of the older bots and a few of the younger ones went to sit at tables and booths, others embraced the music, let it guide them and began to move. Sideswipe immediately whisked Lyrica away into the dance floor, leaving Muse to glance around, strangely hoping for Sunstreaker to claim her…although she had tried to avoid him ever since their last conversation.

Sagittari was one of the first to begin to get the hang of the Earth music, having dragged Ariea and Override onto the dance floor, the red frames of the femmes beside her enhancing her own white and lavender as they moved. Shimmying up and down in time to the music Sagittari grinned at the red femmes as they slowly began to sway their own hips, moving their limbs in co-ordination. Over the din of the music, Sagittari asked Override, "I haven't seen much of you Miss Speed Demon. Where have you been?"

Shaking her shoulders rhythmically, Override smirked and said, "I've been having to run for a while every day to get rid of the energy that my speed matrix throws at me because I can't transform into alt mode. I've been sparring, running, anything to basically expend energy."

"And not the fun way either," winked Ariea. Sagittari and Override laughed, continuing to dance along to the new music as the song ended and switched to "Please don't stop the music," by Rihanna.

Rolling her hips, Sagittari twisted her head to her other side and caught sight of a mech who she hadn't seen since the introduction and who was looking so _yummy_. Ultra Magnus had just sat at a table and was obviously wearing his best polish for the party. His large white and blue frame had sunk down next to Optimus and Elita and was smiling at them. Sagittari wondered if she should go over there and re-introduce herself.

Ariea nudged her, "I know that look. Go on, ask him to dance!" Taking the encouragement, the Zodiac leader grinned and began to shimmy her way off the dancefloor.

After all, she had been trying to find someone to begin a relationship with – and had been busy making friendships. She wanted to be rid of the virus, and so she had become friends with many of the mechs, trying to see who would be a suitable companion.

So far, Hound, while nice, was too nature based. Mirage too quiet and guarded. Maelstrom too troubled. Blurr was seemingly intrigued by Scorpia, Drift by Capricornia. Perceptor, Wheeljack and Skyfire were too science based. Hoist was like a older family doctor. Cliffjumper…was Cliffjumper. Huffer and Gears she wouldn't touch with a 10-foot pole, Tracks was too self-obsessed and Smokescreen she just couldn't see as other than a friend.

Making her way towards the command table, Sagittari was hoping that she could find such a companion in Ultra Magnus. The white and lavender femme was almost there, full of confidence, when she felt her foot get caught on something, and she tripped…right into Ultra Magnus's lap.

"Ah! Oh, I'm so sorry!" exclaimed Sagittari, scrambling to get off the white hips, faceplates heating up in embarrassment.

Stoically, Magnus, reassured, "It's fine," and reached down to help her up to spare her any more embarrassment. In doing so, Sagittari pressed on his chestplate to get up, but the table was surprised by a bolt of energy fizzling between the Zodiac femme and the City Commander.

High pitched, mocking laugher came from somewhere off to Sagittari's left as she wanted to just deactivate. It was the most embarrassing thing to happen to her. Glaring at the bot who laughed, she was it was the smaller, malicious form of Delira, who was pointing and continuing to laugh at her. Sagittari saw red, however, when the small pink, purple and gold femme called out, "Watch your fat pedes next time!"

Growling, the white and lavender femme tried to go after the scorning femme, but was stopped by two large hands on her waist. Looking up, she met the optics of Ultra Magnus and immediately looked away again. The moment was too fresh and embarrassing for her to look at him now.

"Don't," Elita advised her sub-ordinate from her spot next to her mate, "It will just give her the satisfaction."

"Your commander is right," rumbled the city commander softly, gently placing Sagittari back on her pedes. While he too was embarrassed, Ultra Magnus was trying to keep impassive and unaffected for the femme's sake.

Getting back a bit of her bravado, Sagittari argued "But I'm her superior, and as if she'd do that sort of thing to Elita!"

Ultra Magnus patted her awkwardly on the back but it gave the white and lavender femme no comfort. She hated it when things went so fantastically wrong. Especially in front of Optimus and Elita as well! '_Slag it, frag it, and all the rest,'_ she thought disgruntledly. Not saying a word, Sagittari elbowed her way back into the centre of the dancefloor, where Ariea and Override were waiting for her and had seen the whole thing – where they comforted her and assured her they'd get Delira back.

**

* * *

**

Muse

Watching her sister on the dancefloor with Sideswipe was bittersweet. Because she knew she wanted Sunstreaker, and yet she had pushed him away. If she was the handsome golden mech, she would have not even bothered to keep trying. But it seemed that he was persistent in getting to know her better. Shuttering her optics, feeling the ebb and flow of the human music, Muse cursed herself for playing 'hard to get.' Maybe it was her stubborn sense of pride, or maybe it was because she wanted to be sure she wasn't seen as a plaything, but she had done it nevertheless.

It was odd that she didn't even want to dance by herself or even with Wildside- who looked to be having the time of her life – because Earth music was good, but it just wasn't inspiring her.

The track changed again, only this time Muse could _feel_ it was trying to pull her in, with the blatant, steady drum beat. And then a sultry whisper, in time to the music, whispered from behind in her audio, "_Come over here."_

Spinning around, the silver and red-swirled femme came nose-to-nose with Sunstreaker. Before she could even utter a sound, the golden mech had taken her in his arms and manoeuvred her onto the floor, stepping in time to the beat. The guitar riff hit, and Muse almost moaned at the sensation of that wonderful guitar.

Sunny's bright blue optics were on hers, fierce, intense and wanting as her led her around the floor, not noticing the smirks from Sideswipe and Lyrica. Muse couldn't pull away, much like she couldn't of when he had painted her and kissed her then.

_So slide over here  
And give me a moment  
Your moves are so raw  
I've got to let you know  
I've got to let you know  
You're one of my kind_

Muse could feel the strong, warrior shoulders beneath her hands and lost herself completely, letting Sunstreaker and the music take her away. "NNmmm," she hummed, shuttering her optics and leaning into the tough golden chestplates. Faintly, ever so faintly, her audio picked up the sound of Sunny's sparkbeat. She almost leaped up in surprise as she found it too was rhythmic, much like the feet of their owner as they gyrated together, completely in-tune with the other. It was magical. Intoxicating. It was, like the song said, _raw_, and so completely right.

"I need you tonight, cos I'm not sleepin'," Sunstreaker sang softly with the lyrics, only loud enough for her to hear. Unwillingly, she shivered.

The chorus repeated again, as did the same guitar riff that took Muse higher. As the song ended, Muse let out a small cry of surprise as she was dipped backwards and those wonderful lipplates landed on hers for a brief moment before Sunny whispered, "You're one of my kind."

Without a word, the daffodil bright mech pulled her up and pulled her to an empty booth, not heeding any other bots in their way. Sitting side-by-side, Muse and Sunstreaker said nothing, watching as a few more bots rose to join the mass of writhing bodies on the dancefloor. After awhile, Muse pressed up against him, giving him permission to slip an armoured arm around your shoulder.

"Giving in?" Sunstreaker asked quietly.

Sliding sly optics onto his frame, Muse answered, "I'm only denying the inevitable. Besides, I think, in a way, you have earned me. You haven't deviated from me, from wanting me."

Sunstreaker grunted, "About time." Gazing into her optics again, the toughliner growled, "Because I have never _wanted_ another femme like this before. You are so _Primus-damned_ perfect…you have no idea what affect you have had on me…and I am unflappable around femmes. I want…no…_need you tonight_." The last part was whispered so _deliciously _into her audio and she couldn't repress another shiver.

Feeling desired was such a heady rush, and Muse made a quick decision. Pressing her lips to his helm fin and licking a vent, she whispered, "Then I have one question for you: your quarters, or mine?"

* * *

**Capricornia**

"Drift, no."

"Please?"

"Drift-"

"Just one!"

"NO!"

"C'mon…what's wrong with a little dance?"

Capricornia turned away from her mechfriend. As charming and as handsome and she found him, she wouldn't dance. In public anyway. Shaking her head, the royal purple femme reiterated, "I'm sorry, but no. I just don't want to dance."

"Why?" implored Drift softly, still standing over Capricornia from where she was sitting.

Huffing softly, Capricornia said, "I'm not a good dancer in public."

Thinking it over, Drift merely shrugged and sat back down beside her. As she was going to protest him not having fun sitting down with her, Drift placed a finger on her lipplates, smirking calmly, "As long as you can dance with me in private, then I have no qualms just listening and watching."

Strangely relieved, Capricornia smiled back.

**

* * *

**

Cancera

It was hard to go to parties sometimes for Cancera. Because there was usually such an influx of data from the feelings and emotions of all the 'bots around her. It sometimes drove her mad. But now, it was tolerable. She could pick up feelings of lust and desire, joy and playfulness, shyness and uncertainty and a myriad of others. She had felt, more than saw, the incident between Sagittari and Ultra Magnus. While there was a moment of glee within herself at the hilarity of the situation, she knew that Sagittari wanted to make a good impression and had felt crushed.

But now something else caught her perception. Not too far from where she was standing, unnoticed, against a wall, the main scientists were sitting. Skyfire, Wheeljack, Picyries, and Perceptor were all chatting about some sort of chemical theory, but whereas the first mentioned three were content, it seemed Perceptor was troubled.

Shuttering her optics, letting the emotional data register in her processor, her optics re-opened quickly, almost popping in their rush as the realisation hit quick and hard.

The lanky scientist felt worthless. He was smiling and doing all the motions of being engaged in conversation, but in his spark he was definitely off. The brilliant scientist thought his contributions were not worthwhile at all, and by extension, he was therefore worthless.

Troubled by this realisation, Cancera realised that she must take a leaf from Tauri's book and make the scientist her 'project.'

Putting the troubles aside for now, the grass green coloured saboteur vaguely noticed Virgo leaving, and Quicksilver, being ever so shy, slipping out like a silver black wraith after.

**

* * *

**

Mirage

While it was nothing compared to the Towers, it could be said that Autobot parties were at least worthwhile to attend. He had obligingly danced with Delira for one song, honouring the request for she was of Noble blood, the spy had just sat at a table, occasionally smiling at Hound who was dancing with whoever wanted to. Now his tracker friend was dancing with Beta the archer.

That was another major difference from the Towers parties. Everything there felt so stiff and formal, and bots could only dance with those in their rank, unless in an uncharacteristic gesture of intermingling, they would dance with another of lower or upper rank. Frivolity and good cheer were frowned upon in such a setting as the Tower balls, and the more quiet and classic dances were seen. If his creators were still on-line, they would have been appalled at where he was and the company he was with too.

Quietly mulling over his thoughts, he didn't notice a quiet indigo femme coming up to him.

"Hello Mirage," greeted Libra, knowing his sensitive audios would pick up her soft vocaliser.

Glancing up and posture becoming a little more welcoming, Mirage replied gracefully, "And to you as well Libra. I trust you are well?"

Purple optics glowing in faint recognition at the hidden question (_any other mechs try anything with you?_), the Honda Accord nodded and said, "I'm good thank you. I saw you sitting over here and thought you would like some company. It's the least you could do after you got Slingshot off of me."

Mirage smiled faintly, "It was my pleasure."

Resting her weight on one leg and tilting her head to the side the femme tactician observed, "You're not really a party mech are you?"

"That I am definitely not."

"Well…actually, I came to see if you would like to come with me to the library? Hoist and Grapple only finished it up a few days ago so not many bot's know. I saw you just enjoying being a spectator and thought maybe you'd like to do something a little less loud," Libra described sweetly, kindly.

Tilting his helm to the side and thoughtfully considering the option, Mirage found himself perfectly willing to follow. Standing up, he gestured silently to the door and began walking, Libra just behind him as she realised he had accepted her offer. In a comfortable silence, Libra guided him to the library, a place that, when they reached it, Mirage knew he would see a lot of.

There were comfortable seats everywhere, and a large, sturdy variation of beanbags on the floor. There were shelves lining the walls. On three walls, thin bookfiles took up all the space, with one wall for fiction, the other two for non-fiction. On the fourth were human stories that had been transmitted into the bookfile form. Looking all round in awe, Mirage mused aloud, "I wonder why they decided to build it?"

"Apparently it's also a 'safehouse' area for sparklings when the time comes. It's got some sparkling puzzles and toys in that box there," Libra gestured to a box in a far left corner, "Hoist mentioned when I first wandered in here that they are also modifying Moonracer's quarters into a sparkling centre, because she, Chromia and Elita share with their mates. So here's just a space to relax I guess."

"Hmm," murmured Mirage, going up to the human reading section, "Have you read anything yet?"

Beaming in delight, the indigo tactician said, "Yes. There is this human playwright who lived a few hundred years ago whose name was William Shakespeare. I have been reading his plays and they are really quite brilliant and entertaining…would you like to read my favourite one? I think you will like it."

Raising optics ridges at her, Mirage nodded nevertheless. Standing on the tips of her pedes to reach the highest shelf, Libra pulled down the bookfile and handed it to him. Reading aloud the title, "Romeo and Juliet," the spy hoped it wouldn't be a sickly sweet story about lovers. Libra nodded and rested on a couch, obviously an invitation for them to read it together. Inwardedly sighing, Mirage acquiesced. It was a much better experience, at least, than watching bodies grinding on the dancefloor.

**

* * *

**

Wildside

She had a fetish for fliers. Not many other bots knew, but she did. And she was so lucky to be grinding against this _hot_ flyer behind her, but careful not to get any of her black, green or gold paint on him.

She needed a good hard 'face, and from what she was picking up, Air Raid would be the perfect one to give it to her. Being frustrated in this way for too much longer would make her go truly insane. In her opinion, a casual hook-up was just the perfect remedy, and with just no strings attached. A song called "Sexyback" was playing, and Wildside rolled in perfect time, dipping her head back to look up at the flier's faceplates and lick her lips slowly.

With a low groan, Air Raid said, "That better be an invitation."

Wildside chuckled. "It's an invitation for a one-night showing…onboard big boy?"

Leaning down to nuzzle her audio Air Raid also chuckled, "Definitely."

**

* * *

**

Tauri

The silver sharpshooter was puzzled. In fact, she had been puzzled all day. Prowl had completely shut off his end of the bond, and yet she could tell it was not accompanied with any sort of negative intent. What even thoroughly confused her more was that every now and then Jazz would smirk at her from his place in the DJ booth knowingly. _What was going on?_ As if to answer her question, a pulse came through her spark and she turned to face the doorway of the rec room…where her jaw promptly fell open.

For there was Prowl…polished and shined to perfection, the obsidian and white paint reflecting the low lights of the rec-room. And his chevron seemed to positively gleam in brilliance, the bright crimson a focal point on his frame. His majestic doorwings were held up high and proud, flared out gracefully for all to see. Tauri wanted to melt into a puddle of nuts and bolts right then and there at her bondmates appearance.

Tauri was only vaguely aware of everyone else in the rec-room copying her motions and staring at their usually bland second in command. Prowl, too, seemed to ignore the stares. He was fixated on her.

Prowl only deviated from her optics for one moment, to nod at Jazz, who slipped the datachip into the player, smirking wildly, knowing what was to happen. Smokescreen and Bluestreak knew it too, and as Prowl started forward, the two younger Praxians made other bots move out the way in a wide circle around Tauri.

The silver femme could only stand stock still as Prowl slowly moved towards her, body language displaying nothing, nor his emotionless faceplates. His optics, locked onto hers, told of a different intent – what it was, Tauri was not sure.

The Cybertronian music started softly, tantalising strings of Praxus reverberating around. The black and white then snapped his gaze from Tauri's and stepped to the beat around the edge of the gathered circle, optics now menacing as he passed any mech. A low sound made itself heard, and it took Tauri a few moments to realise that Prowl was growling! Tauri turned as she watched Prowl pace around to the slow beat, as the path became tighter and tighter, nearer and nearer to her. And then there was a cacophony of sound as the beat became slightly quicker, other stringed instruments rising in a crescendo, and Prowl, finally, looked back at her.

'_Don't move now,_' passed through their bond, and Tauri obeyed and promptly shivered when she saw Prowl's doorwings suddenly hiked up and seemed larger than usual, displaying his dominance over any other mechs.

Tauri admired the way he moved, no energy wasted, no step out of place. He then passed behind her, and she nearly jumped out of her protoform when she felt a doorwing scrape lightly along her shoulders. He passed her again, fluttering his doorwings gracefully, yet it was not a feminine gesture, it was strong in its masculinity.

Swaying his doorwings back and forth, again Prowl let the doorwing come into contact with the front of her body, lightly fluttering it and teasing a visual display. As he passed around a second time, Tauri let out a tiny sigh of pleasure as little tingles ignited wherever those _tantalising_ doorwings touched.

The music abruptly changed, this time more driving and sensual and heavy, not unlike a human tango. Prowl reached out for her hands, and knowing his intention, took them.

As the handsome, emotionless facade-ed mech pulled her flush against his body, Tauri felt the world drop away around them as she trusted him to glide her around the floor. There was nothing but their frames in contact, the music, and Prowl's impassioned ice blue optics locked on hers. Tauri could feel the warmth of his frame, the ex-vents of air, the faint pulse of his spark, in time to hers, underneath his chestplates. They moved gracefully together, Tauri willing, Prowl masculine in all senses of the word as he moved one direction, checked and went in another, spinning around in perfect time to the beat.

If Prowl hadn't relayed his intent through their bond, Tauri would have yelped in surprise as he lifted her above his head, a small smirk touching his mouth, and brought her down in such a position that on leg was pulled up against the outside of Prowls own, while the other was spread out against the other of Prowls, perfectly straight.

The dance had taken 10 minutes. For Tauri, it had only felt like one. Prowl bent her back slightly just as the music stopped, and it was like the world came rushing back to her. There were whistles and applause all around them, and although he didn't show it on his features, Prowl was feeling very, _very_ satisfied.

And just as suddenly as he had arrived, the tactician left, leaving a small package in her hand as he whispered in soft Cybertronian, "You are mine, Tauri."

Tauri was frozen, systems running on hot as arousal cascaded inside her. When she could move again, Prowl had disappeared out the door and Sagittari and Ariea were around her and exclaiming how they'd like to be courted like that. Opening the package revealed a full tub of fresh masseuses wax – it was a pure Prowl gift, personal and functional. Tauri wanted to go after Prowl, but knew it would be too obvious, and darted a glance to Jazz, who caught it.

"All right, simmer down bots! After that amazin' display, Ah reckon we should do some of our own. Here ya go, this is 'Tricky' by a band called Run DMC," Jazz called out, thumping out the legendary song, providing a handy distraction for Tauri to slip out.

Once out, Tauri looked furtively around to make sure no one was around and (subspacing the wax), she sprinted down towards Prowls quarters they shared, knowing that she wanted him. She…loved him and it was certain.

Reaching the door, she typed in the code faster than she had ever typed in a code before in her lifestream, and rushed in only to be encircled in a pair of strong black and white arms.

"Prowl, mphf-" Tauri got out before lipplates covered hers passionately, the door sliding closed behind her. The silver femme squeaked in surprise as Prowl nibbled on her bottom lip, leaving her mouth open for Prowl to flick his glossa inside and toy with her own. Being relatively new at the art of kissing, Tauri was cautious and shy, hoping not too mess it up as she tentatively stroked back with her glossa. Prowl hummed in pleasure and deepened the kiss, wanting to map out her mouth completely and ran his glossa along her top denta.

Tauri gasped and subsequently let out a small mewl as Prowl clutched her tighter to him, one sparkling white hand on the back of her neck, the other on the small of her backstrut.

The couple didn't even know they had moved into Prowl's berthroom until Prowl fell backwards onto the berth, dragging Tauri along with him and finally breaking the kiss. Optics deepened with desire, Prowl gasped out, "Too fast."

Tauri nodded, faceplates heating again from embarrassment and arousal as she panted, letting her cooling vents take over from the aftermath of that _amazing_ kiss. She rested her head in the crook of Prowls neck, puffing into the neck tubing and cables. If Prowl had wanted to take her, she would have let him. She had complete trust in him not to hurt her and to treat her the right way. She felt Prowls hands move from where they were to rest on her waist, tenderly stroking the plating.

"You are a great dancer," the sharpshooter murmured.

"I had a fantastic participant," Prowl replied. He was trying to cool himself down completely – as he had too quickly lost control of his desire for his bondmate. He didn't want intimacy to be rushed…and he wanted to be a little more romantic than this at least. Dropping a soft kiss onto the top of the silver helm, the tactician continued, "It felt different from the first time I did that courting dance. It felt real this time, not contrived. I…_felt _it…if you can understand my meaning."

Speaking softly, Tauri said, "I can. We were in our own little world."

Prowl fully agreed, but wasn't sure that he, at least, hadn't left it. The moment was peaceful, content…loving even, the comfortable, pliant weight of Tauri resting on him, the slight noise of cooling fans as they controlled themselves…it was what Prowl would always be looking forward to.

Tauri shifted, and made as if to slip out to the spare room when Prowl grasped her wrist. "Stay," he pleaded softly, surprised at his own daring. Smoothing a hand out over his berth, he said, "Recharge with me…in my arms."

Worrying her bottom lip between her denta, Tauri hesitated…she didn't want to intrude or make their relationship awkward. But on the other hand, she really liked the idea of staying with him. Recently, her single berth seemed so cold and alone with just her there, knowing her bondmate was somewhere else. Nodding slowly, the silver femme eased herself back onto the berth, gladly curling up against Prowl's side as he wrapped and arm around her shoulders.

"Good night Tauri," murmured Prowl, initiating the sequences for recharge.

"Night Prowl, sweet dreams," Tauri muttered sleepily back, already halfway into recharge, lulled by Prowls sparkbeat and warm chassis against her own silver frame.

Prowl stiffened slighty, then relaxed and shuttered his optics, pulling Tauri closer. He could not believe that this moment felt so…_right._ Every tactical planning that he had ever done about anything in relationships could not have prepared him for the feeling of complete peace and bliss he felt when around Tauri. It seems their union was a gift from Primus himself. The silver femme even smelt good! A mix of sweet oils left from the masseuses wax she used as well as the faintness of clean metal was pleasing to olfactory sensors. Dropping another tender peck onto Tauri's helm, Prowl finally slipped into recharge, happy and content.

**

* * *

**

Scorpia

The temperamental black and orange femme had spent yesterday in the brig per Elita's orders for insubordination, and was now relieved to be out after one day when the penalties could have been worse. However, she was not so glad to be at the party. Before Virgo and Quicksilver had left, she had sat with those two femmes in a back corner watching the festivities. Now she was alone, nursing a single cube of mid-grade as she wallowed in her own solitary confinement. Unsubpacing the holo of the gift of the Cybertronian racing tracks, she sighed. She wanted to know for sure if it was Blurr who had given it to her.

'_Speak of the pitspawn,_' she thought as she felt a small gust of wind and looked up to see Blurr smiling face.

"Can I sit here?" he asked, gesturing at her table. Scorpia shrugged. She could use a bit of company. After slipping into the chair, the racer noticed that Scorpia was playing with the holo he had given.

"I'm glad you like it," he blurted, before he could stop himself.

Scorpia's optic ridges arched in surprise. "You…you were the one to give me this?"

A little grin on his mouth, Blurr shrugged. "Yeah. I admired your speed. I wanted you to have it."

Scorpia's optics were narrowed slightly, not wanting to trust. Blurr seemed to take no notice and asked, "Wanna dance?" A new song had been playing, and Blurr liked it. What he wasn't expecting was to be rebuffed.

"No." Scorpia said shortly.

It pulled Blurr to a halt.

"Why not? It's a party! You know, music, high-grade, fun…all that good stuff," insisted Blurr. He really wanted to dance with her. Scorpia had caught his optic from day one, a rarity for the usually 'one-night-stand' kind of mech.

Shaking her helm softly, the assassin said, "I don't really engage in these types of activities."

Now usually this sort of anti-social behaviour would have turned Blurr right off. But oddly, he found himself wanting to work out something fun for them to do so he could get to know her better. Thinking hard for a bit in silence, he finally came up with a solution that made him grin with glee. "Hey, since the whole virus thing, you can't transform, yeah?" Scorpia nodded warily. Blurr went on, "So I bet you are missing racing. Why don't I take you for a drive?"

The black and orange femme stared incredulously at the grinning racer. "And how am I going to do that? I can't exactly fit in you," she pointed out doubtfully.

"Easy. You will lie or sit on top of my alt mode and hold on for dear life as I race at top speed," suggested Blurr.

Strangely, Scorpia wanted to accept. "I….I'll think about it Blurr."

For Blurr, it was enough…it had to be enough.

**

* * *

**

Bluestreak

The talkative gunner was having a great time. As Sunstreaker had left, Bluestreak had spent his time on the dancefloor with Sideswipe and Lyrica, and occasionally Bumblebee and his femme friend Esperanza. It was refreshing to just cut loose after the pressures and the emotional rollercoaster of the past few days. Aquaris had been surprisingly sympathetic and comforting, and Bluestreak was hoping that she would seek him out more – she was good company.

Bluestreak looked up to watch Jazz perform some smooth moves up in the DJ booth, twisting his lithe body in the small area. The young gunner immediately got struck by an idea, and scanned the room with both his optics and systems to see if Aquaris was in the room. Pushing out of the tangled mass of dancers, Bluestreak found the femme medic by the energon dispenser.

"Hi! Isn't this a cool party? This is so much better than yesterday with the booths, which were interesting but not as fun as this. How are you?" Bluestreak asked excitedly.

Aquaris laughed softly. "It's good to see you happy Bluestreak." The words were sincere, for the femme medic was relieved to help the mech with his personal demons.

The young gunner became shyer now, and looked up into her amber optics sweetly, asking, "It would make me…really happy if I could see you dance again like you did back…back on Cybertron…" he trailed up, hope shining out of every metal plate of his being.

The aqua-coloured femme couldn't look away from his irresistible 'mechano-pup' look. '_Damn it…I don't want to see that hope disappear,'_ she thought, slightly irritated. Aquaris was not out of practise, having used dancing for exercise and to help perfect her kick-boxing skills, but she had not danced like that for a number of years in front of a crowd this big. Looking back into Bluestreak's pleading baby blue optics, Aquaris found herself nodding.

"Yay!" Blue cheered, and bear-hugged the astonished femme medic before pushing her gently across to the stage.

Gritting her denta, Aquaris sidled up to Jazz in the DJ booth and whispered something in his audio. He smirked, nodded, and stopped the music abruptly and chose another track and paused it, waiting until the femme medic was ready.

All the party goers looked up to Aquaris, standing proudly on the stage. "Good evening," she began, "I'm up here tonight, because a friend has asked me to dance. He has watched me dance before, and he wanted another showing." Gathering her courage, she decided to be open and honest. "You see, to pay my way through medic school, I had to dance. And before you get any ideas, I did nothing other than that," she glared at Cliffjumper who had dared to whistle.

Jazz dimmed the lights to almost nothing, and changed the colour on some of them to dapple blue and green over the crowd and Aquaris.

The song began, a song that had been danced to by humans around the world.

_So hot  
Out the box  
Can we pick up the pace?  
Turn it up,  
Heat it up  
I need to be entertained  
Push the limit  
Are you with it?  
Baby, don't be afraid  
I'ma hurt 'ya real good, baby  
_

Aquaris burst with movement her whole demeanour changing from guarded to playful and charming, moving her arms in structured movements while she swayed her hips slightly, bringing her arms up and down, forming a square shape with them and then rolling her shoulders.

_Let's go  
It's my show  
Baby, do what I say  
Don't trip off the glitz  
That I'm gonna display  
I told ya  
I'ma hold ya down until you're amazed  
Give it to ya 'til you're screaming my name  
_

She gave a saucy 'wink' and did a slow back-bend, trailing her hands over her abdominal plating, shimmying her shoulders at the same time, prompting the crowd to gasp at the balance she held, before when flipped herself up.

_No escaping when I start  
Once I'm in I own your heart  
There's no way you'll ring the alarm  
So hold on until it's over  
_

She made an 'x' shape with her arms before popping her hands over her chestplates and rolling her lower body from the chestplates.

_Oh, do you know what you got into?  
Can you handle what I'm 'bout to do?  
'Cause it's about to get rough for you  
I'm here for you entertainment  
_

_Oh, I bet you thought that I was soft and sweet  
'Ya thought an angel swept you off ya feet  
But I'm about to turn up the heat  
I'm here for your entertainment  
_

Aquaris twirled herself around on the stage, kicking her legs high in front of her before she dropped to the gound, bounced up again to kick up with her other leg. She was a blur of shaking hips and a sly grin as she roamed her hands over her body, pretending to scratch at her abdomen in desire.

_It's alright  
You'll be fine  
Baby, I'm in control  
Take the pain  
Take the pleasure  
I'm the master of both  
Close your eyes  
Not your mind  
Let me into your soul  
I'ma work it 'til you're totally blown  
_

She brought her hands to her helm and twisted it from side to side, before looking into the crowd at Bluestreak and playfully crooking her finger at him in a 'come hither' gesture. The gunner smiled and blushed.

_No escaping when I start  
Once I'm in I own your heart  
There's no way you'll ring the alarm  
So hold on until it's over  
_

She turned to the side and held her arms above her helm and did a full body roll, undulating her muscle cables and pulling them back in before shaking her aft.

_Oh, do you know what you got into?  
Can you handle what I'm 'bout to do?  
'Cause it's about to get rough for you  
I'm here for you entertainment  
_

_Oh, I bet you thought that I was soft and sweet  
'Ya thought an angel swept ya off your feet  
Well I'm about to turn up the heat  
I'm here for your entertainment  
_

She turned frontal, swaying her body from side to side and draping her hands over her thighs and abdomen, moving her legs outward and forward.

_Oh oh... mmmm  
Entertainment...  
Oh oh... Oh entertainment...  
I'm here for your entertainment...  
_

_Oooohhh...  
Do you like what you see?  
Wooooaaaahhhh...  
Let me entertain 'ya tell you screeaaam  
_

She turned around and did another back-bend so that her helm was facing the audience and rolled backwards onto her hands so that she was doing a handstand and had her legs pointed towards the ceiling. This met a round of applause and she cart-wheeled into a standing position.

_Oh, do you know what you got into?  
Can you handle what I'm 'bout to do?  
'Cause it's about to get rough for you  
I'm here for you entertainment  
_

Aquaris put all her energy into the graceful movement of dancing, feeling herself lift with enjoyment at dancing so freely as she shimmied and shook across the stage. Twirling around with her hands in the air, rolling her shoulders and kicking out gracefully, she was putting on quite a show!

_Oh, I bet you thought that I was soft and sweet (bet ya thought)  
'Ya thought an angel swept ya off your feet  
Well I'm about to turn up the heat (turn up the heat)  
I'm here for your entertainment_

She finished, cooling fans kicking on at the exertions, to the cheers and whistles of the crowd. She was a little bashful at the attention, but then saw Bluestreak near the edge of the stage. His face was shining with laughter and of hope fulfilled. And as she saw his face Aquaris knew it had all been worth it.

**

* * *

**

Jazz

Admiring Aquaris's smooth moves as she danced across the stage, the silver saboteur decided to let the music play and hopped of the stage, seeking the flash of brown and yellow that was Leo-Rah. Jazz wanted to ask her for a 'date', plain and simple. She was cool, she was fun and entertaining and very willing to do whatever she could. His type to a T.

Seeing her alone (for once, he mused, for she always seemed to be with a friend), Jazz sauntered up to her with a small smile.

"How're ya likin' the party Leo-Rah?"

The femme grinned at him, rolling her shoulders slightly, "I'm lovin' it. It's amazing that you can plan all this!"

"Well, Ah've had too much time in the medbay lately," replied Jazz. Leo-Rah snapped her gaze to him and asked, "You mentioned the bed rest on our first day and now again. What happened to you?"

Although Jazz knew she was just being friendly in her concern, he wished she hadn't of remembered when he had said that, and he wished again he hadn't said his previous comment. This was not the way he planned on asking her out, so he improvised.

"Hmm," he murmured playfully, "Maybe Ah'll tell ya if ya join meh for a cube of energon on top of the base."

"Asking me out Jazz?" Leo-rah questioned playfully back, but inwardedly wanting to agree and squeal like a femmeling.

"Why yes, Ah am Cap'n' Obvious," Jazz teased back, pleased that he had turned it around so quickly. Leo-Rah nodded, optics twinkling with mirth as she did so.

"How about in two days time? I'd like to go on the nature thing you have set up for tomorrow," replied Leo-Rah in response to the unspoken question.

"Sure thing lil' darlin'," said Jazz. Perfect.

**

* * *

**

Ariea

The red femme was walking down the hallways of the base to the femme quadrant, contemplating the recent weeks since she had gotten the virus. The fifth sister, she was the best warrior, with flashing green optics and a bright, cherry red paintjob. And yet now, she felt strangely…hollow. She had left the party early, abandoning it after awhile because she was bored. She got bored easily, and often left certain projects unfinished.

She had seen Sagittari make an attempt on Ultra Magnus, and although she had encouraged her eldest sister, she had felt protective as well, and even more so after she tripped and embarrassed herself.

The red warrior was confused within herself. It felt like she was wandering around in a closed labyrinth and changed it path so she couldn't remember where she had been. It was a frightening and worrisome aspect. To be feeling so secure within herself before she came to Earth, and for it all to come crumbling down around her without her own being having a clue…it was processor boggling. What was missing? What was the virus doing to her?

It was making her think about her future.

She needed to be bonded…with a sparkling, a little one to call her own. She was too young damn it! For such commitment and she was out of action until she fell in love. It sucked.

Turing the last corner before the femmes quarters, Ariea was stopped by the sight of an old mech leaning on a wall, mouthing on a cy-gar. Systems scanned his spark-signature and turned up with his bio and stats. His name was Kup, one of the oldest Autobots in existence.

"I was kinda hoping you would leave the party. I've got somethin' I'd like to discuss with ya kid," said Kup nonchalantly, trying to make himself look as non-threatening as possible.

"Yeah? Like what?" the red femme mouthed off. Was he stalking her?

"Like that little virus of yours, now before you pipe up," he waved away her protest that was sure to be coming, a look of incredulousness on her faceplates, "I'm not that kinda mech. I'm old. I've lived my lifestream and this old pulser," he tapped his chestplates, "Ain't up to that kinda stuff even if I was so inclined. However, I got a proposition for you."

Scoffing slightly, she replied, "What make me so special?"

Old blue optics became wry and he said, "I saw you in battle and I saw your stats. A warrior like you isn't gonna be into commitment. So here's my proposition: you use my excess spark energy to make a sparkling orb. No bond, no lifelong commitment to a mech you don't really want. Just a sparkling to get rid of the virus. I'm old as I said. I'm slowly dying and giving off spark energy as I do so. This is the chance to get back into action and kick 'Con can."

Ariea took in all the information, letting her mental circuits toss around the idea. Ex-venting deeply, she gave the only answer she could.

"I'll do it."

**.**

**A/N: Oh my….that is huge. 39 pages! That;s more than I've done on some assignments!**


	21. Mother Nature

**See authors note at the bottom, it's got some bits of info. I am very sorry for the wait, but I hope it was worth it. You all know my disclaimers. **

**

* * *

**

Of Femmes and Sparklings – Chapter 21 – Mother Nature

* * *

Hound looked carefully over the assembled bots. He was so pleased to be helping Jazz out today by taking a group out to observe Earth's ever changing environment. In the few weeks that he had lived there, Hound found that he loved to explore Earth's terrain. When they arrived, outside the base in their hidden valley there were multitudes of organic life, from different species of flora to fauna. And then there came the snow. Like most Cybertronian's (save for explorers), Hound had absolutely no clue what it was. Until he went on it. Cold, making crunching noises under his pedes, the powdery substance had enthralled the tracker to no end. And now he was taking this group with him to explore.

Skyfire, Perceptor, Wheeljack and Picyries were the most obvious to have signed up for it. Scientists all to the core of their sparks, they had bonded as friends in the past few weeks. Ratchet even began affectionately calling them the 'nerd squad.' Four of the other Zodiac sisters had decided to go as well. Capricornia, Gemini, Cancera and Leo-Rah were waiting to go. Beta, Delira and Quicksilver had also shown up. Among other mechs were Mirage, Maelstrom and Springer – who had come as back-up just in case.

It was a good, solid group, and Hound was smiling an easy smile as he called his fellow Autobots to attention. "Ok, I'm gonna take you guys to this place on the other side of the valley that I discovered a week ago and thought it was pretty special. It's not too far, so that the femme's don't have to feel guilty about not transforming. Ok?"

Receiving nods, Hound started off, leaving from the base's front gates and through the thin layer of snow, waving jauntily to a security camera, knowing Red Alert was on the monitors.

Reaching the entrance to a small, hidden outlet of the valley, Hound beckoned then to follow, and the bot's in the group went through and into the smaller valley, to stop and capture the view into their memory banks.

There were multitudes and multitudes of flowers and trees, sheltered from the snow by rocky overhangs that only allowed glimpses of the valley from the air. It was bright, filled with a rainbow of colour, so different from the harsher metal world of Cybertron. It was peaceful, an undisturbed piece of nature, a curiosity and rare find for Cybertronians since the beginning of the war. Seeing the other Autobots rapt faces, Hound grinned. He knew the sight would stick with them as it had for him.

"It's best if we go in small groups for this. So…Skyfire with…Gemini and Capricornia. Perceptor with Cancera and Leo-Rah. Wheeljack and Maelstrom with Picyries…and…Mirage with Delira and Quicksilver. That leaves me with Beta and Springer. Everyone good?" Hound asked expectantly, almost bouncing in excitement.

At the nods, they split up into their groups.

**

* * *

**

Mirage

He could have cursed Hound when he had announced which femmes would be with him. He did not want to be in the same vicinity with _her. _It wasn't the shy speed skater. No. The tiny model who was a quarter Noble named Delira, was the proverbial thorn in his side. Most of his high-class 'breeding' traditions as it were, he usually disregarded. Sparkbonding with another noble was one of them. Delira, however, didn't seem to think so.

She had made it very clear at the party last night.

She had sauntered up to him and asked him to dance, which he acquiesced to, knowing Delira was a part noble and accepted in respect. However, her words and actions made him shudder internally. She had let her hands wander over his chestplates, obviously seeing if they were compatible. '_You know, noble to noble, I think it would be great if we got together, you know? Bring some form and grace into the Autobot ranks, for we know we are far better._'

Mirage would have purged his tanks at the comment, if not for the fact his sense of decorum forbid him to purge on another being.

So, yes. He wanted to let Hound know _exactly_ what he thought of his recommendations for the groups after the trip. Now he had to hold in his more vicious desires – such as booting Delira back to base if she even thought of touching him again.

Wandering off in an random path, Mirage was content to stroll along and be content to just _look_ at the nature. It wasn't his cup of energon, but this scene was uncommonly exceptional.

Quicksilver was also content to just be happy to be out of base and get to know this planet. Also, because Beta had wanted her to be out and about after she had skipped the party last night. She was fine with just following Mirage around.

The same could not be said for Delira.

The pink, purple and gold femme, though quarter noble, had been raised like a full-blooded one. And ingrained in her was that she should have another noble as a partner. And Mirage was the only noble she knew of.

Sauntering ahead through a rough track lined with white blossoms, Delira intentionally walked in front of Mirage and swayed her hips, imitating what she had done on the model stages on Cybertron. Sneaking a peek back, the femme found Mirage was not, in fact, paying attention. Frown marring her too-perfect features, she leaned down from the hips, feet splayed, to pick a flower. Her aft had, in the past, managed to stop mechs in their path.

Mirage just walked past, optics not deviating from the game trail they were walking. Quicksilver, not oblivious, quickly asked, "So Mirage, how did you like the library? I saw Libra take you there last night."

The blue spy was glad for the conversation and swiftly replied, "I was surprised to find I did. I thought that humans were very base and under-developed, but the playwright William Shakespeare was a pleasing diversion from the celebrations. The language, while archaic, had interesting turns of phrase and structure. And the plot was simply marvellous. Have you been in there?"

"Right after the built it. I went in with Libra. I enjoyed the fantasy novel Eragon. It was fascinating, the imagination of humans," replied Quicksilver, scanning an image of a patch of red chrysanthemums into her memory banks.

Delira pouted and growled. She didn't get any sort of attention from Mirage at all!

Prancing up behind the noble, Delira grabbed his arm and squealed, "Oh, look over there! Those flowers are the prettiest!"

Both Mirage and Quicksilver looked, but were unimpressed with the small thatch of too-bright pink flowers with obnoxious gold centres. Tugging his arm away from Delira's leech-like grasp, Mirage kept walking on, leaving a pouting and annoyed femme behind him.

Quicksilver, looking uncharacteristically smug, said "I have two words for you Delira. Epic. Fail."

**

* * *

**

Skyfire

"And as you can see here, this is a butterfly cocoon. An insect called a caterpillar makes the cocoon for itself and undergoes a stage of metamorphosis before it comes out as a butterfly. This step needs to be completed to make the wings strong," the big, gentle shuttle explained, delicately sliding his large finger out from where he had been tilting the cocoon up to show Gemini and Capricornia.

The amber visor of the younger Zodiac sister glinted as she took in the information. "Cool. So…in a way I guess…they can transform like us?"

Capricornia hummed a laugh and mentioned, "Not really. Right Skyfire?"

The scientist shook his helm happily, "Yep, that's right. With butterflies, to reach that stage, they go through only one stage of metamorphosis. Cybertronians have to go through many upgrades before we can be considered 'mature.' It is not as sudden, abrupt, nor as amazing as this," finished Skyfire, optics continually looking over the tiny cocoon, marvelling over the process that was happening inside.

Gemini grinned, not caring at all that she had been wrong. "What other organisms go through this? Do you know of any other's Skyfire?"

"Moths. Sea Urchins, in fact, go from a larvae form to full-on adulthood…but if change our topic and we have a look over here, there is a plant that has bright white lines on the blue petals. This flower wants to be pollinated…" the shuttle broke off abruptly from his explanation as he looked towards the sky, optics going wide with shock as he saw Starscream, in robot form, flying off into the distance. A pang hit his spark, for his friend that once was…who had obviously come to see him.

It had been Starscream's heel thrusters scraping on a rock ledge as she left that had Skyfire looking towards the sky and spotting her more slender red, white and blue form.

Gemini and Capricornia shared a quick glance before Gemini reached up to Skyfire's elbow, asking, "Skyfire? Are you all right?"

Shaking his helm slightly to clear it, the shuttle replied softly, "Just…thinking about an old friend. Uh, now where was I?"

"How this flower would like to be pollinated," Capricornia gestured to the blue and white flowers to the right of them. The purple femme had seen Starscream too, but said nothing, knowing it was not her place to say anything to the scientist. Gemini had been the only one to remain blissfully unaware of their Seeker visitor.

"Oh…now as I was saying, the brightness of the lines act as a 'runway' for an insect called a bee…."

**

* * *

**

Hound

Leading Springer and Beta to the back wall of the small valley, there were a few wooded glades that the tracker wanted to show his group. Hound felt particularly buoyant, relishing in the crispness of the oxygen and nitrogen laden planet, the cool grass underneath his pedes. "Ok, now we are going to have to duck through here slightly. There's a clearing big enough for the three of us through here-"

"Hound, I am here as firepower. I am not going to get some leaves in my frame – I'm just not in the mood," groused Springer, running his fingers lightly over his blaster.

Still feeling good-natured, Hound said, "All right. As long as Beta doesn't bail too."

The smaller green and white femme shook her head enthusiastically, "I want to see. Lead the way."

Leaving the Wrecker at the edge of the wooded glade, the tracker and the archer picked their way through, stopping every few seconds to admire a piece of nature. Hound was thoroughly enjoying watching the femmes face light up every few seconds as her peripheral scanners picked up a new thing, be it animal or plant. Beta created a separate memory folder just for the pictures she was taking with her optical zoom.

Reaching the promised clearing, Hound sat down on a large tree stump in the middle of the clearing, leaving Beta to stand and look upwards in awe at the sunbeams drifting down through the foliage to encase the clearing in a vibrant gold/green light. Capturing another image, Beta said, "Springer should be kicking himself at the decision to not come here."

"He should," the tracker agreed, leaning back on his arms and relaxing his muscle cables.

"I mean, I know not everybot will like nature, but I do and I think it's amazing. How these creatures evolve and adapt, and in such a short amount of time! Some of us Cybertronians cannot even begin to dream to achieve what some of these organisms do in such time. In a day, everything can change in an ecosystem," continued Hound after a pause, optics expressive. Beta had turned to listen attentively and agreed.

"Yep…hey Hound? Why does that stump have lines on it?" Beta asked.

"They tell how old a tree is. The more lines, the more years the tree existed. Judging by the species of tree and the lines, the tree before it fell was about 79 years old. A vorn, really," explained Hound.

Because they had been so still while they were talking, a young mule deer had plodded into the clearing, intent on nothing but the grass that was sought. Both Beta and Hound froze, not wanting to scare the creature away. Beta curiously scanned the animal, taking pictures of it and scanning it into her memory file. It was a young animal, for the antlers had not been fully formed.

.:_It is odd that a single, young, male deer is here alone. According to the World Wide Web, this species of deer travels in herds:._ Said Hound over the comm. his optics the only movement his frame made.

Both green bots watched as the deer leisurely grazed, as it seemed not to notice them, before it finally looked up, and with a snort of realisation, and trotted away.

The tracker and the archer vented in relief. It had taken much self control to keep their systems quiet and undisturbed. But it was more than worth it to see such an animal, unafraid, up close. It had been an inspiring moment for Beta, who was beginning to see why Hound loved this planet's nature.

"This is so amazing. Thanks, Hound, for taking us here," said Beta, fully sincere.

Grinning back, Hound said, "You are more than welcome. I'm glad you like nature as much as I do. You know, I'll even comm. you to come out with me on my nature walks in the morning. Sound good to you?"

"Yes. I'd love to."

**

* * *

**

Perceptor

As he walked, the scientist only barely registered the forms of the two femmes walking pleasantly in front of him around the west edge of the valley, picking their way among some large rocks. Perceptor had his processor on two things: to find out how _exactly_ plant life converted sunlight energy into energy for life, and that he was useless as anything but a scientist.

He was. He honestly thought he was.

What was he, other than an assistant to the greats like Wheeljack, Skyfire and Ratchet? Did his experiments come to fruition? No. Only a calculated 45% of the time. Less than 50%! A fail in all the sense of the word. Was he ever appreciated? No. Huffer, ever the complaining one, had once called him 'nothing but a bucket of spare, rusty old bolts, you're that useful!'

And logical scientific thinking had led him to this conclusion: He, Perceptor, was useless. His words failed him, those beautiful, long words he loved to use he couldn't now.

So wrapped up in his miserable thoughts, he didn't notice Cancera drop back and step into place beside him.

"You're not, you know," she said softly, startling Perceptor out of his thinking.

"Pardon me, what did you say?" asked Perceptor, optics narrowing slightly suspiciously.

"I said you're not. Whatever you are thinking that is hanging over you like a dead weight…uselessness, whatever form it is in, you are not it," Cancera repeated, slightly louder than the first time.

Perceptor stopped walking from the shock of the statement, staring at Cancera incredulously. Politely, the scientist replied, "I have no idea what you are referring to. Would we like to locomote ourselves to another location?"

Cancera didn't press on, but walked after Leo-Rah, who had bounded up onto a boulder to wait for them.

"C'mon slowpokes, there's a path up to the top of the valley. My scanners found that the rocks will hold our weight. You game?" Leo-Rah made the question sound teasing, and before her sister and the scientist could answer, she had leapt onto the path in a flash of yellow and brown, mane sensory panels on her helm flaring in excitement.

Cancera decided she couldn't let the issue go. Her unique ability – and sometimes, admittedly, a curse – was telling her to press Perceptor. That this was not a one-off. It was a problem that needed to be solved. Keeping pace with him again, Cancera said, "Hear me out. Please. What do you have to lose?"

Sighing, Perceptor reluctantly agreed. "It would be counter-productive to not listen to your way of logical thinking."

Satisfied, Cancera made sure that Leo-Rah wasn't eavesdropping, before whispering, "My innate ability and intuition is to feel what others are feeling. A sense of severe empathy, like Tauri. Only with my ability, I can feel the reasons _why_ that bot feels that way. You may hide your internal agony very well on the outside, Perceptor, but an empath such as I can tell what you feel. You feel useless. Because you are not as successful as Wheeljack or as respected as Skyfire or as adored as Picyries is – especially after she helped to get our revenge. It is because you constantly compare yourself to others, when there is no comparison. It is because you are sensitive and feel things deeply, and every harsh word, failure or criticism builds up within your meta and comes back to haunt you."

Perceptor almost had to re-boot his processor. He felt like he was being pranked – '_Wouldn't be the first time,'_ he thought bitterly. But the sincerity and gravity in the smaller femmes optics almost made him feel guilty for even having that thought.

"You…that is not conclusive," protested the predominantly red mech.

"But true," murmured the grass green femme.

Not protesting the comment, Perceptor went on, "And I have only briefly communicated to you on a personal level infrequently. How on Cybertron would your being have knowledge of my emotional sub-routines?"

"I know that you are not useless, and that you have other bots that do care about you, if only you would open yourself to them," Cancera said gently.

Beginning to feel irked at the femme saboteur, Perceptor uncharacteristically snorted, "Yeah, who?"

Smirking a little at Perceptors break in character, Cancera counted off on her fingers, "Maelstrom. You practically raised the mech. I know that you went with him to see Ratchet on the day of the human booths to check to see if his bond with Megatron is still blocked and unnoticed. Without you there, he would have fallen apart. Perceptor, you are one of Maelstrom's one true friends, and his rock. I've felt it."

"Also, Skyfire and Wheeljack. They _always _value your contribution, even though it may not amount to scientific success, they always find ways to help prove your theories or give you ideas to make new theories. They _do not_ feel like you are useless to them."

"Drift and Blurr. Drift, because you saw beyond his Decepticon exterior, and Blurr because he learns words from you – however seldom he may use them – and thinks you are a loyal friend and you are a decent medic because all of the times that you helped fix him up."

"I could name a few more, even Prime! Because he cares about every Autobot who pledges allegiance, regardless of whether they fight or not, if they successful all of the time or not. He cares about us because he knows that we are loyal to him…and me, Perceptor, I care. I care just as much as Prime and Elita-1 for all of those in the Autobot army. Including you," Cancera finished emphatically, her optics burning with honesty, not realising that they had stopped, and that she was standing closer to the lanky scientist.

Perceptor was hit with an overwhelming sense of ease. It was abrupt, but this was what he needed. Someone to reassure him, because he had not asked for assistance.

Smiling in thanks, Perceptor said softly, "I have an overwhelming amount of gratitude for you as of this moment. It seems that your conclusion was indeed valid, and that I give you my apologies."

"They are taken," reassured Cancera, and walked ahead, feeling so much better having helped him.

As Perceptor continued their trek to the top of the small valley, he realised his spark felt lighter. Maybe…just maybe, he could set up some parameters for testing his own emotional gauge by how he talked with other beings about sensitive subjects. And, just maybe, Cancera would be his first test subject.

**

* * *

**

Back on base – Bumblebee

The yellow scout vented exasperatedly. He thought that he had gone over this with Esperanza. That there was no pressure whatsoever to speed up their relationship, that they could still go out and have fun like they had been doing on Cybertron. Heck, he was happy with just kissing and holding hands.

And now Esperanza was avoiding him again.

Bumblebee, ever the attentive mechfriend, had set up an energon lunch in his quarters where he wanted to just spend some downtime with Esperanza. And while she had initially agreed, a few hours later she had called up on the to let him know she was feeling a bit unwell and that she was going to the medbay, that she couldn't make it today. Again, like the gentlemech he was, an hour after that Bumblebee had visited the medbay to see if the champagne coloured femme was feeling better, only to be greeted by a grumpy Ratchet. The medic had wanted him to undergo a processor scan when he asked if Esperanza was feeling well, and could he see her, replying, '_Bumblebee, I know you are a young mech, but if you don't have a clue when your femmefriend is, there is a problem._'

And now he felt jilted, even though he knew it was not Esperanza's intention. Bumblebee knew that the normally playful, sweet, yet tough femme was feeling a little lost and insecure – not sure of what was going to happen next, despite his efforts to comfort her.

Knocking politely on the door to her quarters, he walked in with no assumptions as soon as the door slid aside. Esperanza was obviously not excepting him to check up on her, and let out a small noise, which sounded suspiciously like 'eep!'

"Hey. How are you feeling?" Bumblebee asked, making sure to keep his tone light.

"Good," Esper replied. Quickly. Too quickly.

"I didn't know that Ratchet moved his medbay. I think I like the decor change though, much more homey," joked the yellow mech, only half-sarcastic.

Sighing heavily, knowing there was no point in lying (again) to her mechfriend, Esperanza pleaded, "I'm sorry Bee, but these doubts just kill me-"

She was stopped by fully replying because Bee had come up to her and wrapped her fully in his arms, letting her helm bury into the cables of his neck. Soothingly stroking a shouldercrest, Bumblebee deadpanned, "You know, if 'facing makes you so nervous, why don't we just get it over with and then actually have a relationship?"

Choking and stuttering her intakes, Esperanza drew back and stared at Bumblebee in shock.

"You can't be serious."

"Actually, I've been thinking, it's just a big block between you and me. If we could just break it down, then maybe we can move forward," shrugged the scout matter-of-factly, "and besides, we've known each other for a long time, as friends, even if our more serious relationship hasn't been as long."

The champagne-coloured sharpshooter, while still in a state of surprise, mulled over the idea. If they did…interface…she would be Bee's first and he would be hers. It would be something special and their next stepping stone. But to do so under these circumstances…would it prove that they were meant for each other or that the pressure had made 'them' disintegrate totally? Pushing the less than happy thought out of her processor, she laid a gentle kiss on Bee's lipplates.

"I'm thinking about it. But, I'm so sorry I lied to you…is the invitation of lunch still open?" Esper asked sweetly.

Smiling back, the scout's mood brightened as he answered, "Of course. To the BB cafe!"

Laughing, and wrapping an arm around his waist, Esperanza followed Bumblebee out of her room and through the base, happy to spend more time with him.

**

* * *

**

Elita-1

Panting slightly, the femme commander grinned at her two closest friends as they finished off their sparring, bowing to each other in the traditional ways of circuit-su. Although they had weapons systems, most of the femmes learned this art, learning the discipline and finesse of the self-defence.

"Chromia, tighten up on your kicks, they are a bit sloppy, and Moonracer, stop losing your focus," reprimanded Elita lightly, knowing her second and third in command would have recommendations for her too.

Snorting, Chromia replied, "What about your ducks? Need to be a bit swifter there Miss 'no fear.'"

"That's _Mrs. Prime 'no fear'_ to you Chromia. Have you and Ironhide decided on a name yet?" inquired the rose coloured femme, smirking back at her oldest friend.

"Yep," grinned Chromia, rubbing her chestplates affectionately, "and it's a fairly typical name for bots like 'Hide 'n' I. Our little mech will be called Dynamite. He's predominantly navy and black, but for the rest I'll let you both see when he comes online."

Moonracer briefly embraced the trigger-happy femme in excitement before sharing her own news, "Ratchet and I did the protoform making with Wheeljack yesterday, and we are having a little femme with a brighter shade of my colouring with a red stripe and a white chevron. Ratchet had one as a youngling, and so he wanted our little femme to have one too."

Looking at each other, grinning, all the command femmes burst into excited squeals, delighting in the fact their sparklings would be with them soon. Their laughter filled the room and Moonracer bubbled excitedly, "Can you believe it? Something we once talked about as a distant fantasy is now a reality!"

Hearing that comment, Elita was immediately rushed back as to _why_ this sort of event was written off as a fantasy. Mood suddenly dipping, she politely excused herself away from her friends, saying she had some commander business to attend to.

Upon reaching Optimus's office, the femme commander let out a heavy sigh and entered. Smiling softly at the sight her big, hulking mate curled over the desk as he did his work, Elita sent a pulse through the bond in greeting. Helm immediately snapping up, Optimus smiled lovingly at his sparkmate.

"How are you and the sparklet doing?"

"We're fine," said Elita, coming around the desk to lean on it in front of her mate, but her expression was forlorn.

"But…?" Optimus pressed, taking her hand in his own.

"We're in war, Optimus," the rose femme continued softly, "And regardless of this truce, we will only have another three weeks of it. And once Eylam comes, we will only have two weeks with him, unhindered by war. It's just…urgh!" she huffed, banging her hand against the desk. Optimus watched as she vented heavily, struggling not to cry. Reaching forward, he drew Elita onto his lap and placed several gentle kisses upon her helm.

"Do you think it's a sign of bad parenting that we are raising a sparkling in war? Do you think it is a selfish thing if this had happened without the virus?" Elita asked sorrowfully.

Shaking his helm, the flamed blue mech replied, "No! Don't think like that, my love. It is something special between us. And…while the timing might not be right, it is not selfish to want to give another life to the world." Tenderly stroking over Elita's arms, Optimus revealed his own doubts. "And I am afraid too Elita…this is a new thing we haven't encountered before, and I am afraid of accidentally harming our sparkling. I am a large mech, I may not see him and crush him, and that is my first fear towards my sparkling."

Nuzzling into warm neckcables, Elita said, "I'm so happy I've got you Optimus. To feel you within me…"

"And I too. I don't know how I would be able to have made some decisions I did without you by my side."

Sighing again, Elita just sat there, cuddled into Optimus's side, and wouldn't mind if she could stay there the rest of her life.

**

* * *

**

Kup

Yeah, he didn't know what he was getting into, but he didn't care about Ratchet's opinion too much in that matter. He didn't know what he was getting into every time he charged into a fight either. But still, he had the bolts to come out on top, and he had the bolts now.

The femmes like this now didn't have the advantages they used to have. And Kup was all about the Autobot side having advantages. If Ratchet could successfully transfer his spark energy to Ariea's spark, and for her programming to realise it only had to make a sparkling, then Kup could safely say to the unmaker, 'Ok, I've had mah time, you can take meh if you want now.' Although he had to admit he wasn't sentimental on things like legacy, it would feel pretty damn good to know that he had offspring of his own and that he had put another femme back in commission.

Sinking his weary, age old green frame into the medical berth, Kup kept his optics offlined, seeing nothing at all, but his peripheral scanners working overtime on sensations of feeling, and his audios picking up the sounds of Ratchet as he bustled around, getting his equipment ready. They were in a private room, and only Ratchet was going to perform the procedures on him. First Aid and Aquaris were in the general medbay, checking over the last of Cybertronian equipment.

He felt as Ratchet triggered the manual release of his chestplates and spark casing. As the scuffed glass slid away, Kup didn't hesitate for a moment, pushing his spark up to prominence so Ratchet could see.

So he could see the fading light of his once proud blue spark, what was wholesome was now marked with scars of injury and torture, of emotional anguish. To see the bright flares of light that, in his quarters, would sometimes peek out around his chestplates – they were that strong. Ratchet would harvest that, by using the same device that would hold sparks in statis if their body was broken and their spark needed to be taken out.

"Hopefully, I'll see you soon, Hatchet," said Kup calmly, having finally taken his cy-gar out of his mouth, for he had heard the medic retrieve a sedative.

"You better, or else when I get to the Well of Sparks, I'll throw you into the Pit," threatened the medic, but there was no malice in his tone, but a faint trace of worry and tenseness.

Kup smirked as Ratchet injected the sedative in him, "I wouldn't expect anythin' else from you," before he offlined, leaving himself open to the medics radical and tender care.

**

* * *

**

A/N: YES I KNOW I'VE BEEN TAKING LONG

– again, I'm sorry. Life is hectic. But I hope I did Perceptor right, he was so hard to write. Yes, Delira is a bit of a b***h, but she gets better. Eventually. Oh! And the valley I was using at the beginning is totally made up, but just to clarify, there is no snow there because of the amount of rock overhangs and outcroppings, and why it's perfectly preserved. Here's a little tidbit dangle for the next chapter – Remember Smokescreen and Roulette promising to have a re-match? Well, the results are in the next chapter. The meeting of humans is now postponed to the chapter after that. **Review please!**


	22. New Sensation

**Ok, I worked really hard on this one, so I hope you all like it! You all know my disclaimers. Want an update on how far the femmes are along? Here: Day 18 elita and flare Day 17 Mia, day 10 Firestar and Moonracer.**

**

* * *

**

Of Femmes and Sparklings – Chapter 22 – New Sensation

* * *

**Elita-1**

It was a new day, and Elita could feel the time to welcome her first sparkling was drawing nearer. There were definite emotions coming from her sparklet, of love and wonder. But now, she had to be strict, for she had to get to the bottom of the issue with the Jewel combiner. Small, superb flyers that they were, they were in the wrong for ignoring her completely.

Five, simultaneous knocks sounded at her door. As she called out for them to come in, Elita wondered what today's session would bring.

The brightly coloured armour shone in their jewel tones under the light of the office, and they stood upon the chairs offered so they could be near optic level to their commander. Onyx, as usual, was the first one to speak.

"Good morning Elita-One," she said, giving a brief salute with her gestalt following immediately after.

"At ease. Now, I'll cut to the point. What is this problem with your sparks?" inquired Elita, leaning back in her chair as she observed the small femmes.

Optics darting quickly to her gestalt members, Onyx replied, "It is a complex explanation, and not even some of the greatest medics on Cybertron could figure out what went wrong when our gestalt bonds were created and came active."

"Go on," mentioned Elita.

"We are five femmes of similar builds from an outskirt of Vos. Onyx knew Ruby and Emerald, while I knew Topaz," cut in Sapphire calmly. "The scientists of the Professional Academy of Seeker Science approached us with a project. We were among the smallest builds of femmes at the time."

Emerald took over, "You see, there had never been any femme gestalts, and so the scientists were interested if they could make a gestalt bond work in femmes. They gathered us together because of the similarity of our builds, and they made sure we gave them our consent. At the time, we had collectively decided that is was a fair idea, and that it would be used for the greater good."

The atmosphere became a little more grave. Ruby jumped in, "And so we underwent the painstaking procedure to have a gestalt bond 'installed' between our sparks. Some of our armour had to re-arrange, and it was painful, but the Scientists re-assured us that we would be reimbursed and we could go about our normal daily lives. And we could, for a while, and we melded into our 'Jewel' form seamlessly."

"However," Topaz said quietly, gravely, small wings drooping in sadness "We found something was wrong. I had taken a partner, and I wanted to bond with him. This was a half-vorn after we became a gestalt, and we had gotten to know each other very well, and I thought that it would be fine. But…when it came time to bond with him…" the honey coloured femme broke off, optics dimmed with past reflections.

"She couldn't and it hurt both Topaz and her partner," finished Onyx for the femme. "It almost deactivated Whiplash, because Topaz's spark energy lashed out at his."

Elita, who had been listening with a somewhat stunned expression on her faceplates, questioned, "What did the medics tell you about that?"

Venting deeply, the glossy ebony femme continued, "They had no explanation other that our gestalt bond parameters had not figured in a femme's mechanical differences in terms of coding for reproduction and seeking a mate. The scientists made an error they overlooked, because they were all mechs. The medics we saw eventually concluded that we cannot bond with another, and are destined to be connected only to each other for the rest of our existence."

"Which is why we are so distressed by this virus," explained Emerald, "because we didn't want to seem worthless, now that we can't transform or fight ever again. We will just use up resources. That is why we have been sequestering ourselves in our quarters."

"Also, it feels like we have been given false hope. We reacted with the medic First Aid…all of us. We do not want him pursuing any of us if he thinks he is doing the noble thing by building a relationship to try and get rid of the virus," added Ruby.

Elita looked at each one of the femmes, feeling the utmost sympathy for all of them, but cursing, once again, the consequences of the war that they were in, destroying lives and homes. Choosing her next words carefully, the femme commader asked, "Is there…any sort of way to reverse or circumvent this phenomena at all?"

"No," Topaz shook her head. "We've tried everything but destroying our gestalt bond. But we've come too far to do that."

"Then I won't ask you to do anything detrimental to all of you," sighed Elita. Her mounting frustration with the situation was causing her sparklet within her to tremble in distress. Rubbing at the seam of her chestplate agitatedly, the rose-coloured femme said, "Thank you for disclosing such sensitive information to me. If there is anything I can do for you-"

"We will let you know," they chorused.

"So Jazz, remind me again why can't the humans come today?"

"Cos one of 'em has a mother who has a birthday, an' Judy can be pretty scary when she's mad. So…yeah, tomorrow is when they're comin'," replied the silver mech, leaning back into the grass. He and Leo-Rah were on their promised outing, and Leo-Rah had chosen the small valley Hound had led them to the previous day because of the privacy. And Jazz didn't mind that at all.

"Huh…what are they like though? You see the stuff on the World Wide Web and in all the things you organised, but I am incredibly curious to meet them," wondered the yellow and brown femme, blue optics shining with said curiosity. She was laid out on her side on the grass facing Jazz, who was looking up at the clouds.

"…it's kinda hard to describe 'em Leo-Rah. They're so much like us 'n' then…they're not…ya'll find out when ya meet 'em," said Jazz.

"Discussion closed then," chuckled Leo-Rah. Looking serious though, she asked, "Are you doing to tell me now?"

"Tell ya what?"

"Jazz, why were you on medical leave from regular duty?" she asked a little impatiently, hoping the saboteur would be straight with her.

"Aw, c'mon Leo-Rah, why spoil a beautiful day with talk about things like that?" Jazz countered, smirking a little as he noticed the slightly stony expression on the smaller femmes faceplate.

"Jazz…"

"Stubborn…almost as much as Ah can be sometimes. Alrigh', but ya gotta not tell anyone. Prowler knows, an' so do Prime an' the others who first came to Earth with me…but not anyone else. Ah mean it," said Jazz, optics grave behind his visor as he figured that he may as well just fess up. Leo-Rah nodded, so wanting to hear the explanation and unravel the mystery that had been niggling at her ever since she had perceived it.

Looking up at the clouds, contrasting their serenity to his roiling discomfort, Jazz told his tale. "It was the battle for the All Spark. Prime was occupied 'n' all, an' ol' Bolt-Head Megs was tryin' to get to Sam who had the All Spark. Ah was next in command on Earth, an' ah thought ah could hold Megs off 'til Optimus came. But….ah….the thing is…let's jus' say getting' ripped in half wasn' the way ah wanted to go out."

Silence. So much silence that Jazz could faintly heard the sounds of birds, and very faintly even, the sounds of the patrol groups around the base. All of his companions systems had gone quiet in shock.

Leo-Rah had to re-boot her processor to stop the shock from taking over. _Ripped in half. He was ripped in half_. The thought kept trying to fry her CPU. Finally, she blurted, "How in Primus's name are you still functioning?"

Shrugging, but in a gesture that was anything but nonchalant, Jazz replied, "Ratchet. Man, that mech's a miracle worker. Tol' me that Ah still had a parta my spark in my body, tho' Ah was pretty much gone anyways. When he welded me together, my spark kinda stabilised a bit, so he was eventually able to get me back online. That, and Ah don't think Primus was ready for me yet!" The saboteur chuckled dryly at his last comment, but noticed Leo-Rah still looking at him as if he was Unicron himself.

"Hey, don't go 'n' have a processor crash. Prowler gets too many anyways, don't need 'nother bot crashin'," said Jazz a bit louder, tapping a yellow plated shoulder to get a reaction.

Batting the prodding hand away, the all-rounder exclaimed, "I just can't believe that you haven't gone crazy from…from that!"

"Well, Ah am known for bein' pretty resilient. 'N' now that Ah've killed the mood entirely…" Leo-Rah smiled abashedly at him, "…Ah got a question for ya Leo-Rah."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah…how ticklish are ya?" Jazz smirked, raising a playful optic ridge beneath his visor.

As Leo-Rah processed the question, and as it dawned on her, she found herself tackled by a mischievous saboteur, a blur of silver above her as she tried to wriggle away from the tickle torture that was sure to come. The femme suddenly squealed when Jazz dug his fingers into her sides, causing her to wiggle and laugh, trying to get away from Jazz. "Nah ah!" he crowed victoriously, "Ya're my prey now…to tickle as Ah please!"

Giggling wildly, Leo-Rah gave up to those tickling hands. How could she not?

**

* * *

**

Smokescreen

"You can bow out gracefully Roulette, and I won't think anything less of you…I'll just know that _I_ was right that you cheated in the first place, no big deal."

"No big deal? HA! Yeah right, if I'm going to bust my pride, it's gonna be if I lose, not because I walk," snorted Roulette. The divisionary tactician smirked at her, his opponent, while a few mechs around them sniggered.

"But you know you're going to lose, little femme. You have gone over 50 starburst cards in the past six lots in a row. If you get over 50 this time, it will be your seventh in a row, and I win by default. You've got 44 starbursts right now. You know your chances. You're gonna get a card with more than 6, and then it's a supernova – you lose, Roulette," grinned Smokescreen, doorwings twitching in smugness.

"Not yet Smokey. You tacticians try to calculate. What happened to chance and luck?" countered the femme. But in her CPU, she knew her chances were few. But she knew Smokescreen had 48 Starbursts in front of him. If she held her cards, she would lose anyway. She had to take the chance.

Smokescreen stayed silent.

Roulette took that chance. Reaching forward slowly, the bots around her held their intakes in suspense. Grasping the card, she drew it towards her, face down. This was the moment of truth. If it was over 6 starbursts on the card, she would lose, and have to do what Smokescreen wanted for the next day. But if she got 4 or less, then the same result. She needed 5 or 6 starbursts on the card. Shuttering her optics for a moment, Roulette opened them and flipped the card over.

It was a picture of 8 starbursts.

"Yes!" Smokescreen cried out in victory, among the cheers and shouts. Roulette watched impassively as he grinned smugly at the crowd, accepting the money from bets people had placed on him to win. He would divvy it up later. But now his victorious gaze landed on the purple and gold femme opposite him.

"Roulette? At the beginning of your service to me tomorrow morning, you will address me as 'sir,' or 'master,' clear?" Roulette wanted to slap that slag-eating grin off his face and rip off his doorwings to boot. But she kept quiet.

With a brief nod, Roulette simply walked out of the rec-room. '_At least,'_ she thought semi-triumphantly, '_I took a risk.'_

**

* * *

**

Prowl

The cop bot could honestly say that for the past two nights, he had the best and most peaceful recharges in his lifestream. It was a platonic and caring embrace he had enveloped Tauri in each time, even though his inner animal – as such – wanted to change it to a more passionate one. But nevertheless, it was the first time _ever_ he had recalled wanting to stay in his berth all day when he wasn't ill.

It was strange and new, but also comforting to wake up with another.

Deviating in his usual process of staying in his office all day with a small break to control the monster that was datapads, he decided to take more than a few minutes in the rec-room to see how his bondmate was. The Praxian knew that she would be there, having told him that she wanted to view the game between Smokescreen and Roulette.

And yes, Prowl allowed the occasional gambling pool, this included. He found that if he didn't, then there would be a rowdier crew – which _no-one_ in the command structure wanted at all.

In exchange, Smokescreen would clear all of his datapads.

Entering the rec-room and receiving salutes from Bumblebee and Bluestreak, who were at the nearest table, Prowl scanned the tables for the graceful moon silver form of Tauri. Spotting her, Prowl began to make his way there. And as he started off, he stopped again as he observed her…and those she was with: Smokescreen, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe – some of the biggest flirts in the Autobot army.

And they were currently doing so with _his_ bondmate. Not intentionally, maybe, but all the signs were there. Smokescreen's doorwings were swaying slightly, showing interest in the silver femme, who was laughing at Sideswipe's joke. Sideswipe was pressed up against her side, and Sunstreaker was wearing his most charismatic smirk.

Something bubbled up deep within Prowl, something he had no control of. Be it his 'courtship' programming, or his natural protective nature, Prowl saw red. He wanted to tear the mechs around Tauri away from her, grasp her to his body and practically weld her there.

Proud doorwings flared wide in a threatening V position, and he slowly stalked across the room, letting everybot know that he was _fragged_ _off_. No one…_no one_ would touch her but him. She was his. He was hers.

Smokescreen saw him first and immediately backed away. Smart. Being Praxian, he knew the signs.

The twins were not so clued in, still chatting charmingly to the silver femme, as Prowl got nearer and nearer, until he was looming over all of them, the chatter breaking off as they realised his demeanour.

"Prowl! Buddy! We were just telling Tauri about this other prank we pulled on ya back on Cybertron. You know, the one where you accidentally recharged in the rec room in the Iacon base and we drew all over your faceplates? Good times mech, good times," sniggered Sideswipe, while Tauri and Sunstreaker were trying their hardest not to laugh.

However, this only incensed Prowl even more. His optics blazed. Inside, he was humiliated at them telling Tauri about all the times the Twins had made him feel stupid, when he wanted to impress his bondmate.

Tauri kept from laughing and looked at Prowl's expression, which was stony and utterly unreadable to her. "Prowl…?" she questioned softly.

Rational actions be damned, Prowl growled softly and promptly picked up Tauri to sling her over his shoulder. Without a look back or a care that Tauri was loudly protesting 'I'm a femme, not a sack Prowl!' the black and white mech strode down the hallways to his quarters, where he put her down before locking and encoding the door so no-one could come in. As he turned toward her, he received a light punch on his shoulder from his angered femme.

"What was that for?" she yelled. It was frightening, this new experience of being claimed in a way so barbarian, and it made her fearful that there was a scary, hidden side of Prowl. She sent a small, scared pulse over their bond.

In receiving it, Prowl winced, knowing he should of at least said something. "I apologise for scaring you, but not for my actions," he apologised softly.

Huffing, Tauri said, "You should. You were closed off…_closed off_, Prowl, I didn't know what to think. What _was_ that?"

"They were touching you," Prowl said, as if it were completely obvious.

"I didn't know that was an offence officer, maybe I should be arrested," the silver femme bit back sarcastically.

Sighing in exasperation, Prowl showed her the only way he knew how. Grasping her shoulders, he melded his lips to hers, so fast that her lipplates parted involuntarily to let him in. His glossa conquered hers swiftly, and then skilfully wrote a word on the roof of her mouth with his glossa. Tauri moaned in realisation as her CPU figured out the word. _**M-I-N-E.**_And Prowl continued to write it again and again, at various points in her oral cavity. By now, Tauri was clutching on to his helm desperately, seeking more of that affection, sometimes touching his chevron which caused him to moan. The silver femme could get lost in that circuit blinding kiss forever, but they finally released, panting slightly.

"Now you understand?" whispered Prowl hoarsely. He had never, _never_, imagined that he could feel such passion, such ardour, for another being, to the point where it was driving him near insane to be himself – controlled, calm and collected.

Tauri nodded, and then giggled a little bit. "Aw Prowl, now I think about it, it's cute when you are jealous."

Prowl let out a dry chuckle, resting his hands on her hips. "I want to try something with you," he stated, looking her in the optics.

"Mmm…ok. What do you want me to do?"

Without a word, Prowl led her to what was now becoming their berthroom, and sat her on the edge and kneeled in front of her. "I want to introduce you to…touch. Intimate touch. You see, some mechs when with an untouched femme, simply do the 'interfacing and touch' as one big package. It's an illogical move though, as the femme's first time is made more nerve-racking like that," Prowl explained patiently, watching for his pretty bondmate's reaction.

Tauri immediately tensed up when she heard the words 'intimate', 'interfacing' and 'touch.' However, she loved this mech, as new as that love was, and knew that if she said so, he would stop all action.

As the silver femme gave him a hesitant nod, Prowl continued, "I'm not going to do anything untoward. I'm just going to let you feel my touch. My hands as they roam over you. But…I'm going to blindfold you. It makes it easier to feel the sensations, rather than worry about how you look or your reaction to the touch."

It was delivered in such a neutral tone, but the words themselves were loaded. Tauri shuddered slightly when she thought about the blindfold. But this was about trust. The blindfold would represent her having blind faith in Prowl. It was needed, just like relationships needed a degree of blind faith.

Leaning forward to give his smooth white cheekplate a light peck, she whispered, "Blindfold me Prowl."

Smiling crookedly, softly at her, Prowl went around to the berthside table, pulling out a thick length of black ribbon from a drawer. He held it in clear view as he reapproached her, and she shuttered her optics in preparation. Prowl landed a soft kiss on each of her closed optics, before carefully placing the ribbon over them, gently drawing the ends over her helm to tie in the back in a firm – but not painful – knot.

"I'm just going to start in front, then I'm going to sit behind you," said Prowl. But really, this was just an excuse to admire her form. He noticed now, like he had noticed before, how beautiful she was in her own way. The one colour of moon silver contrasted perfectly with his own black and white one, but also complimented it. Like she was his middle ground. While her frame was fairly standard, she had a helm that tapered in the back, near the top of the helm, and a few grooves in it for an optic-catching appearance. Her armouring was the thickest around her thighs, but Prowl didn't mind that at all. It certainly didn't detract from her appearance. They weren't huge, just nicely curved. And her chestplate…well, Prowl didn't mind her chestplate either.

Sliding onto the berth behind her, Prowl drew her flush with his body, feeling her start slightly when he touched her.

"Tell me what feels good…and what doesn't," breathed Prowl, directly into her audio.

And so he began. From where he had his hands wrapped around her torso, Prowl moved them to her shoulders, and traced lines down from the shoulders, dipping in where a hidden weapons system would spring forth to shoot flash grenades, down to her fingers. He clasped his fingers around hers, lightly stroking them, before trailing his hands slowly back up to her shoulders.

When he heard a sharp intake of air, Prowl stilled his fingers where they were resting on the seams that would give way to her grenade launcher on the top of her shoulder. Rubbing a bit harder, Prowl was rewarded with her shoulder shifting into the touch.

With a little satisfied smirk, he moved his ebony white hands down the front of her chestplates before sweeping them to her sides and running his fingertips up and down the transformation seam he found there. "Transformation seams can be one of the most sensitive places on a Cybertronian body. From tickling touches," Prowl whispered, ghosting over the seam, "to more sensual ones." Tauri let out a surprised moan as her bondmate slowly dragged his fingers over the seam on her side.

Silver hands scrabbled at white ones, as if desperately seeking to know how to respond properly.

"Prowl, I-"

"Shh…let me do all the work," admonished Prowl affectionately, taking her hands and placing them on his kneejoints, lined up outside of Tauri's own.

Nodding blindly beneath the blindfold, Tauri tried to relax, but found it hard, her sensors were trying to figure out where Prowl would put those gentle, warm hands next. Without the sense of vision and perception of sight, the touches felt intense. One thing was for sure: she had never felt anything like this before.

Placing a light kiss to the back of her helm, Prowl slid his hands up to the closed headlights of her alt mode, and coaxed them open. His fingers made a soft squealing noise as the plastic rasped against the metal. Prowl could feel Tauri's frame shudder involuntarily with the sensation. Circling his fingers around the inner lights, Prowl smiled again, relishing in just the simple touch that was freely given – trustingly given.

Retracting his hands, letting the headlight shutters close, Prowl crept his hands towards her abdomen, rubbing in small, tender circles across the smooth silver metal. Because of his proximity to her, Prowl faintly heard her cooling fans kick on at their lowest setting.

His own would have been running too, if it were not for his extreme self-control.

"Your hands are so nice and warm Prowl," Tauri murmured softly, and her mate purred in satisfaction. He continued to rub in circles, only these were getting bigger and bigger, trailing over the sensors in her abdomen. The silver femme let out a sound of confusion. There seemed to be a pooling of heat in her lower abdomen plating, right before her pelvic plating. It felt strange, and she wondered if something inside of her was broken.

"Uh…Prowl? I feel really _hot_ in the bottom of my abdomen…is…is this normal?" Tauri questioned, frowning under her blindfold. The answer came in the form of a chuckle that vibrated all along her backstrut.

"Oh my dear…you are feeling aroused," Prowl chuckled. Even though he couldn't see her face, he could feel her blush. Nuzzling the back of her neck, kissing it tenderly while his optics twinkled amusingly, he said, "I would hope you are, because we are never going to get far if you are not ever aroused around me."

Wiggling around in place, Tauri didn't know how to respond. His voice was like this wonderful dark honey dripping into her audios and filling them with liquid desire. She felt oddly hot, and she wanted him. She couldn't believe how much she was filled with that tangible want and hoped that Prowl felt the same. Knowing the moment might be too soon, but also knowing she wanted Prowl to know, Tauri said four words: "I love you, Prowl." She followed the statement with a rush of desire and love through the bond.

Prowl paused in his ministrations. No lover that he had ever had – and they were not many – had even indicated that they cared for him on a deeper level. And to be told he was loved…it almost blew his processor. His optics brightened as he received the pulse of love from Tauri.

Taking his stunned silence as a fumbling to say the words back, Tauri hastily whispered, "It's ok if you don't say it back. I…I just needed to get it out."

Without a word, Prowl undid the blindfold and turned Tauri around so she was straddling his lap and laid a soft kiss on her lipplates, worshipping her mouth with his. Tauri was a willing participant, nibbling on his bottom lip, and delivering as much care as she could in the kiss. When Prowl pulled away, Tauri could see the conflicting emotions behind his optics and hugged him to her, stroking his back between his doorwings. This caused Prowl to relax and lie down, placing his bondmate next to him.

"Thank you," the Praxian breathed reverently.

Smiling softly at him, Tauri replied, "You are very welcome to my love Prowl."

"No one has ever told me they loved me like that," he murmured. Tauri nodded, "I know…I felt you stiffen. Can you tell me about your past relationships?"

"They won't be pleasant," he said evenly.

"But," Tauri pointed out, "they are holding you back in some way."

Huffing quietly, Prowl just thought he might as well get it over with. "First there was Galaxia. She was a friend of mine who came to have a crush on me. We got together, had our first – albeit awkward – interface together. She got bored with me when I joined the Autobots. I loved her, though I know now it was infatuation. Then sometime later, there was Nightray, and she as only with me for a dare, to see if I could get to interface with her. It ended badly when I found out about the dare. Bit-bolt was a femme who was just looking for someone who was strong, and fell out of infatuation with me. And then my most recent, which was at least 750,000 years ago, was Metallica. She liked me, but she hated the fact I was devoted to my work."

"In other words, you lead a lonely existence for most of your lifestream, because I assume those 'relationships' didn't last long," Tauri prompted.

"Half a vorn was the longest, and that was with Galaxia. 5 'relationships' in the millions of years I have been alive," Prowl responded. Tauri reached up to rub his chevron soothingly, and he leaned into the touch.

"Well, I think you are wonderful. I don't care how much work you have to do, or if you can only see me for a minute each day. Knowing that you are here," Tauri placed a hand over her chestplates above her spark chamber, "is enough."

"You are beautiful," Prowl whispered, kissing her helm and placing his hands over hers on her chestplates.

Tauri laughed quietly. "You are the one with those beautiful, warm hands. You were so caring when touching me. Watching and waiting for the astrosecond that I said anything. Prowl, you were right in doing this with me…I feel so much more comfortable with you now."

"I'm glad," the black and white mech replied, and sat up. "Unfortunately, I've got more datapads to finish."

"Go on," Tauri mentioned, waving her hand in the direction of the door.

Prowl grasped the hand and squeezed it affectionately, before leaving. Just before he reached the outer door to the hallway, Tauri called, "Prowl?" He stopped. "I love you," Tauri said again, at the doorway to the berthroom. Prowl turned and smiled his true smile at her, before undoing the door locks and disappearing into the hallway.

**

* * *

**

Arcee

One moment, they were all doing their usual daily sparring with each other, and the next, she was sitting dumbfounded on the sidelines while Firestar and Flare-up gossiped about sparkling care. Honestly? She thought it was just not the time and place. This was the time that they got their engines revving nice and hard, proving that they could fight and hold their own like any mech.

Watching Flare-up extend her feeding latch to show Firestar, Arcee wondered bitterly, '_Or maybe it's because of my own love life right now that's got me feeling resentful.'_

Springer and Hot Rod had given each other the cold shoulder ever since they had come back. Occasionally, one or the other would come up to her and either ask to re-kindle what they had or bombard her with questions as to why she had gone with the other mech.

Yes. Absolutely fantasmagorical personal life for Arcee.

Breaking off from her thoughts, she tuned in just in time for Firestar to say, "And Inferno and I finally decided on a name for our femme. Her name will be Luminosity. Or Lumi for short if she likes it. She's going to be mostly red with peach and black accents. Her helm is going to be a more feminine version of Inferno's."

"And why's that?" asked Flare-up.

"Cos she's going to be our little angel, and Inferno's helm seems to have wings on either side," replied Firestar, smiling broadly and patting her chestplates.

Arcee felt a pang of envy as she watched her best friends titter away over their sparklings. She felt like an outsider, a rarity in their friendship group, since they were nigh on inseparable (save for kidnappings and such). Turning away, the pink motorbike sighed. Hearing Arcee's sigh, Flare-up and Firestar halted their conversation to look at her.

"Arcee?" Firestar asked concernedly.

Shaking her head frantically, almost popping out neck cables, Arcee assured, "I'm fine."

The pink unsparked femme didn't know if it was instinctual carrier sympathy, or circuits going haywire in the mushiest way, but within seconds of her answer, she was faced with an armful each of best friend, Firestar hugging her from her left side, and Flare-up from her right. They were muttering words of comfort in soothing tones. What they said, Arcee didn't know, but she didn't care. She felt better already.

**

* * *

**

Ariea

"Is Kup fine though?"

"Unbelievably, the slagger pulled through. He's going to be in the back rooms for the next few days while his spark stabilises though. Now Ariea…be warned, this may not work. Without the spark to push the energy, a sparkling orb may not be formed. And I don't think Kup's spark is ready to release more energy bursts," advised Ratchet, securing a tube like instrument onto the red femme's spark chamber. It was connected to a container that housed Kup's extra spark energy.

Nodding her head, Ariea said, "I want to try."

Ratchet looked at her within an inscrutable expression before nodding and placing his finger on the switch. Once he flipped it down, the energy would flow onto her spark to have an impact in such a way that she did not bond to it, and the virus caused her to have a sparkling orb.

Shuttering her emerald optics in an attempt to relax, the warrior femme said, "I'm ready."

Ratchet flipped the switch.

**

* * *

**

A/N: Oooooh, cliffy! Anyway, I've decided to upload chapter by chapter, instead of my other system where I would do a chapter, and submit the one before it. Again, the story will eventually finished, but it's going to be a long one. Next up! Meeting the humans.

* * *

Jazz


	23. A little dash of humans

**Hey, a shout out to Frog- Lizard for the review! I have noticed that I'm not feeling the love as much as I have in previous chapters. If you want to suggest something to pick up the story a bit, just let me know. Please review. **

**You all know my disclaimers. **

* * *

Of Femmes and Sparklings – Chapter 23 – Meet the humans

* * *

Sam felt very much like a specimen right now. There was a funny looking bot looking at him and poking him, asking him questions such as: 'How on Cybertron do your bones hold you up?' 'What are the functions of hormones?' 'Why does your CPU forget?' The helm fins would light up blue as he talked, dazzling his eyes with the light show.

"Wheeljack, enough. You can play later, let everyone else ask them questions," grumbled Ratchet.

The inventor chuckled sheepishly, and moved off to where Mikaela was, who had began talking to Arcee like an old friend. Sam was felled in shadow once again, but had to crane his neck up all the way to look at a mech who was just as tall as Optimus Prime. As the large white and blue mech leant down, Sam found himself reminded of when he first met the great leader of the Autobots. As the large face met his own level, Sam plastered on a smile.

"So…you are the one who we owe for Optimus's life," Ultra Magnus stated.

"Uh…yeah I guess. Though it wasn't just me, it was everyone else too."

Shaking his great helm slowly, Magnus said, "But it was your bravery that has defined you. Instead of saying 'I'm not part of this,' you overcame any fear you had and did what was right. You will be a great leader one day, Samuel Witwicky." And with that, Magnus straightened to his impressive height and walked off.

'_O…kay…Big giant robot makes a statement and walks. Awesome,'_ the teen thought, bewildered. Glancing over to his girlfriend, he saw she was still chatting to Arcee and her two motorbike friends. Seeing that avenue of 'escape' blocked, he looked towards his guardian, he knew there was no help from Bee either. He was still making goo-goo optics at his femme friend, Esperanza, who Sam had met earlier. Hearing the shift of large feet, Sam looked up to see the engineer, Wheeljack, edge towards him. Resolving to grin and bear it, Sam waited for the endless questions to start up again.

* * *

**Chromia**

"You are a human youngling?" the blue femme asked curiously at the little being on her hand, who was clutching an soft toy in the shape of her mate Ironhide. The little girl giggled and nodded her head.

"Yep. I twee years old! And Hide mwy gwuardian," said Annabelle Lennox, pointing over the blue and silver hand she was seated on to the large, black, weapons specialist who was standing beside his mate. Smiling softly, Chromia asked, "Oh really? Is he nice to you?" Again, the little blond girl nodded enthusiastically.

"Hide is the best! He said he will pwotect my from bad guys and boyfwiends."

Major Will Lennox, who was down on the ground between the bondmates, laughed. "It's true Chromia…I overheard Ironhide's exact words."

"Remember, Will, that you are human and I'm a trigger-happy gun toting weapons specialist with enough power to blow up a planet. I can squish you," grumbled the black mech.

Unable to resist, Will smirked, "Yeah…and you agreed to chase away any potential boyfriends for my daughter."

Chromia chuckled too, throwing Ironhide an amused look. "Look love, you already got one part of being a creator right. What were you ever doubting for?"

The old mech sighed as the two humans and his sparkmate laughed at him. It was going to be along morning.

* * *

Mikaela

She was in her element. All the Autobot femmes were crowding around her, trying to ask her questions, trying to look at her, scan her, touch her. Leo-Rah, as the one of the smaller femmes introduced herself as, had been fascinated by the feel of her clothing (she was wearing a silk blouse) and her hair. Picyries had been interested in how her skin was her 'auto-repair.' Elita had congratulated her on her strength of character. Capricornia had wondered if her French manicured nails were human weapons. Wildside had even asked why humans had two breastplates instead of one.

She had definitely laughed at that one.

Mikaela didn't mind though. It was so refreshing to see that Cybertronians actually had femmes. The only one who she didn't really like was one who was called Delira. She seemed fake. And also had asked Mikaela if she was repulsed by her own squishiness.

But all the other femmes…well, Mikaela wished they were human. She would have gladly made them her friends. Especially Arcee, Flare-up and Firestar. Firestar had transformed into her motorbike mode, showing off the sleek, red altmode, and Mikaela had felt a longing to own the bike. It was the top of the range Ducati – beautiful in every way. The other femmes who were capable of transforming did so, and those that couldn't had shown a projection of the alt mode they had. Mikaela had been in mechanic heaven. The femmes had gone all out in choosing their alt modes, even if they were not considered exotic.

The young brunette teen still lusted after the car modes. If there was one thing that she _could_ love more than Sam, it was cars and bikes. And each femme was a perfect mix of intelligence and sleek lines and angles.

What surprised Mikaela was the amount of respect she had for the femmes. She had only just met them. But she was amazed at their inner resilience, even though it may not be obvious. They were some of the last of their kind, and they still had the strength to laugh. There was also something about them that was…ethereal. They moved with quiet, machine grace and every movement was about calculated feminine strength.

As the timid Quicksilver pushed forward to ask how and why she had piercings in her ears, Mikaela smiled. She could do this all day.

* * *

Ultra Magnus

The noble, white and blue city commander walked away from the young human Samuel, and was going to leave for his quarters when something caught his optics. A certain white and lavender femme who had the unfortunate luck of falling into his lap the other night. Resolving himself, Magnus decided to ask her to ask her if she was fine. After all, he was just being concerned.

Sagittari looked up from where she was leaning on a wall, hearing the thud of great footsteps, only to look up to the taller, bulkier frame of Ultra Magnus. The mech whom she had made a fool of herself.

She could see he was looking a little uncertain so she said, a little harshly, "What do you want?"

"Pardon me, but…are you ok? After the…ah," Magnus muttered, trying to come up for a good word for the problem.

"One of the most embarrassing moments of my life? Yeah, that's right. Well, I'm fine, so if you excuse me," the Zodiac leader snapped back, still smarting over the embarrassment. Delira had been lying low lately, trying to make sure she didn't cross her path. '_Maybe,'_ Sagittari thought absently as she turned to leave, '_I should go find her now and make her pay.'_

When she got out of the hallway, she noticed that Ultra Magnus followed her. Whipping around in an irritated fashion, she scowled, "What? Want to do the honourable thing? Make sure I'm ok? Make up for it? Well, whatever, I don't need pity or charity. If it had been Capricornia and not me, she would have already blasted your 'facing appliance off. Femmes do not need to be the little 'femmlings in distress.' I'm not one of them. Go the Pit away!"

Ultra Magnus just stared at her. Not in a shocked way. In an appraising way. It made her derma crawl.

Sagittari stared right back. She had her rant, he should reply to it.

When Ultra Magnus broke the stalemate, it wasn't with words she was expecting. "Is that our femme culture in modern times? To just bite a mech's helm off before he says anything…have we truly slipped that low in your regard? To think that our chauvinism throughout has made every femme feel like she must put up defences against any mech who comes to her, instead of her own self controlling the encounter…it makes me sad, Sagittari." And she could almost believe it. His optics were shining true sincerity, but she really didn't feel like buying it.

Huffing, she tried to leave once again, but she felt one large hand envelop one of her own. Turning her head to glare at him, she said, "Yes?"

"I think," he stated calmly, "that we should re-introduce ourselves again."

Her violet glare softening slightly, Sagittari shifted back to face him, her hand still within his. Shaking it, she replied, "Hello. My name is Sagittari, the oldest and leader of the Zodiac sisters. My primary function is warrior, but before the war really started, I was training to be a teacher."

Smiling very slightly at the white and lavender femme, Ultra Magnus said, "Pleasure to meet you. I am Ultra Magnus, formerly Dion, and I was the City Commander and am currently fourth in command. Before the war I was a construction bot in making bridges."

"Hm…guess we were once all sane then," mused Sagittari. She tugged her hand away, surprised that she didn't feel as wild as she did before, where she would have had no qualms about showing this mech how strong she had become from training, and tackling and pinning him. It wasn't impossible, no matter how big the bot in front of her was.

"Yes," commented the large blue and white bot, and decided to be the first one to walk away.

Sagittari couldn't restrain herself. "Hey!" she called after him. He looked back over his shoulder at her.

"Why didn't you walk away after I yelled at you?"

A low sound filled the hallway and Sagittari realised it was a chuckle emanating from the mech down the hallway. "Because I think that it would be good to make a new friend."

* * *

Blurr

The racer felt like a sparkling in an energon goodie store. Scorpia had finally decided she wanted to have that drive with him. So he immediately zipped to the entrance of the base, excitedly jiggling in place as he waited for the black and orange frame of his femme to arrive. Quickly re-booting his processor, the streamlined blue mech wondered if he had just thought that…his femme…his femme…hmm…it sounded nice.

As he was about to turn it over more in his mind, Scorpia appeared as if from nowhere.

"Hey," she greeted, hoping her tone didn't sound too stilted. She was still questioning in her sanity to actually agree with Blurr's idea. She just didn't see how it would work.

"Hey yourself," Blurr flirted back, giving a little wink. Scorpia rolled her optics, but Blurr was rewarded with a little smile. In unison they walked out across the freezing dirt and grass plain outside. There was no sunshine today, just grey clouds hovering overhead, threatening to burst with rain that would turn the snow to slush.

Abruptly, Blurr stopped and transformed, revving his engine in invitation. Scorpia frowned. Now he was in his alt mode, she felt so much taller. She would surely crush him. The racer was a loon, and she would hurt him.

"C'mon," Blurr laughed, "I know you want to!"

"Erm…how….?"

"Just…lay yourself over me and grab onto my front bumper. I don't need the windshield to see after all," the blue Bugatti prompted, still revving in excitement.

Scorpia flushed slightly. She would be on top of him, her plating to his own. It was just _inviting_ awkwardness. When Blurr revved again, impatiently this time, Scorpia huffed and plunked herself down on his hood, reaching forward. The femme was rewarded with a surprised yelp from the car beneath her.

"What? You told me to." Scorpia asked, knowing that Blurr hadn't meant for her to be so forceful.

Chuckling ruefully, Blurr shifted on his axles and tried not to mentally picture how Scorpia would have looked sprawled out on his alt mode. She obviously didn't know that the position was a little compromising, as she just settled herself, clenching to his bumper in preparation.

"OK…ready when you are," Scorpia confirmed. A loud rev was her only preparation, before she felt the wind whipping about her as Blurr hit his top speed in five seconds. Gasping, trying to hold on amongst the forces of the wind, the assassin plastered herself down on the hood of the Bugatti, and listened to outrageous, ecstatic giggles. It took her a moment to realised she was the one who was giggling. With a rush of surprised euphoria, the black and orange femme gave in. She whooped loudly with joy and she felt Blurr under her rev harder in response.

Blurr couldn't believe it. The anti-social femme had melted away in the force of the speed. He could hear her giggles as he raced over the cold hard ground, churning snow under his wheels. He was going as fast as he physically could now, living up to his name as he made a large, wide curve to turn back around and to not throw Scorpia off.

It filled the racer with such satisfaction to know that he was the cause of her joy. He had never seen her so happy. It made him feel _so_ good that he was its cause. It brought him back to his previous relationships…how they had all started out so differently for him.

All the femmes he had gone out with before…_all_ of them…had only been interested in what he was like in the berth, especially after he became the best racer in all of Cybertron. He could honestly say he had never been in love. Been in lust, sure. But love? For a femme as a partner? Nope, he hadn't checked that emotion off on his list yet. And it wasn't until the destruction of Cybertron did Blurr realise how shallow he had been. Optimus Prime and Drift had been the mechs to show him what a difference he could make. That he could love.

And Blurr was willing to believe that Scorpia could be the one that he could love. Maybe.

The racer, as he sped towards the base, didn't know why he had noticed the somewhat stand-offish assassin initially. Maybe because he had looked for a particular type of femme for a while (the type he could 'face and leave) that Scorpia was so different for his norm.

Slowing to a stop, he noticed that Scorpia's smile had gone from a full blown grin down into a subdued closed smile. The sight made him deflate a bit, but after she had gotten off him, he transformed and grinned at her nevertheless. "Cool, huh?" he asked.

"Yeah…I didn't know how fast you actually went until…well, now I feel so much better. Racing is…kind of my relaxation and it has been taken from me," explained Scorpia, optics conveying a small sense of wonder at the speed she had witness. Blurr could see she was trying to control herself, but she couldn't control the shivers wracking her frame at the thought of the speed she had gone. Another part of him was elated that the black and orange femme had opened up slightly to him.

Looking him square in the optics, Scorpia said gratefully, "Thank you Blurr."

Oh, her optics were just too much, Blurr thought. Twin pools of azure wonder and guardedness. He couldn't stop himself. In reply, he ducked his taller frame over hers and closed his lipplates over hers. And for 5 beautiful, slow seconds, they remained connected at the lips before…

"Ow!" Blurr yelped, as he found himself being flipped over and landing with a jarring thud on his back. Realising he had pushed too far too fast, the racer jumped up, only to be greeted with twin pools of azure, shocked optics before Scorpia turned and ran off into the base.

Watching those attractive black backplates disappear from his view, Blurr sighed, "Frag it."

* * *

Capricornia

Sitting in her quarters, the royal purple weapons specialist was working on a design for sheaths to integrate on Scorpia's armour for her daggers, instead of having to rely on subspace pullers for those particular weapons.

But her CPU was not wholly on her work. She was also thinking about Drift. He was such a deep mech. Cavalier on the outside, but completely intense once someone got to know him. His past was shady, but so was hers. And so far, things were great between them. The furthest they had gone was kissing, but neither Drift or herself were anxious to push past that. They reached an agreement to take things at an easy pace. In fact, they were going to have drinks and play a game in his quarters tonight. A human game which had been specially supersized which was called Battleship. Apparently Ratchet and Ironhide had many arguments over the game while in their possession.

It was amazing really, that they had found in each other their ideal partner. Capricornia had always wished for understanding, as had Drift. They wished for an inner peace, a rock in which to whether the storm of this war, no matter how their job within their faction had led them far from that ideal. It was something that-

The door to her quarters cycled open with a slam, interrupting the owner of the Spark blade in her thoughts. Whipping around to see who it was, Capricornia was startled to see Scorpia, wide opticed and looking terrified.

Picking up the nearest weapon – Scorpia's daggers that she was working on for the sheath – Capricornia got into battle mode and demanded, "What's happened?"

Realising what she must of looked like and judging by her older sisters reaction, Scorpia held out her hands in a placating gesture. "No, it's not a Decepticon attack!" she exclaimed hastily, before flopping on the nearest couch, still trembling slightly. Capricornia released the daggers, but didn't lose the wary expression on her faceplates.

"Then what's wrong?" the purple femme questioned, sitting adjacent to the younger femme.

"I…uh…oh by Primus I don't even know!" Scorpia cried out in frustration. Capricornia raised an optic ridge. If Scorpia was like this, then it must have been something emotionally impacting. Waiting patiently for her younger sister to speak, Capricornia wondered if it had something to do with Blurr.

Venting deeply, Scorpia blurted out, "He kissed me! That Primus damned arrogant pretty racer fraggin kissed me!"

'_Bingo,'_ thought Capricornia with a small smirk, saying out loud, "He must have really got you unexpectedly – it's been a while since I've heard you swear like that."

"Well, I leaned from the best," Scorpia snarked back, but Capricornia knew that it was not intended to be snarky. "What did you do?" asked the purple femme, wondering if the younger assassin had reacted in the way she thought she had.

Shifting a bit uncomfortably, Scorpia replied, "Well…I didn't do anything for about 5 seconds, and it was so…tingly, you know? But then I realised what he was doing – no matter how good it felt – and I…uh…kinda flipped him over me and onto his back and ran off…here." Capricornia chuckled at the interesting visual and was relieved that Scorpia had at least enjoyed part of it. If she hadn't, then Capricornia would be having a nice little spark-to-spark with a certain blue racer.

"Nice job. Maybe he will ask permission next time," remarked the weapons specialist.

Scorpia stilled, and then said, "What if there is no next time? Oh, the Pit take me, I don't even know if I want a next time or not."

"Just do what feels right and natural for you. If you don't want it, tell him. I'm sure he won't disobey the orders handed down by Optimus to not force a femme," advised Capricornia. Watching Scorpia mull that thought over, Capricornia resolved to keep a closer optic on Scorpia and Blurr. Not only to be cautious for Scorpia's sake…but also because it looked to be shaping up to be good entertainment.

* * *

Wheeljack

Wheeljack was working on a new invention – wasn't he always? But this had a big potential to go boom. It was a new type of bomb device that would actually be remote controlled. That way any bots didn't actually have to plant it…they would be able to 'walk' it to the desired destination. Right now, he was tweaking the position of the spindly legs that belied the strength within them before he gave it a test run.

Putting the little crab looking bomb on the ground, the inventor went to the furthest corner of the room – after all, one couldn't be too cautious.

Switching on the controller in his hands, Wheeljack knew immediately that he had forgotten something – to dial down the amount of explosive in the prototype test. As soon as he switched it on…he realised he had used a full strength prototype – for as soon as he went to move it, the world burst into a cacophony of explosive noise and swirling red flames of confusion and agony. He felt himself be thrown into the wall by the shockwave of the blast.

When he came to, his lab was blackened and glass was shattered everywhere, he was welded to the wall from the heat of the explosion – and Picyries was making her way through the wreckage to get to him. The younger scientist was moving her mouthplates, but nothing seemed to be coming out. That's when Wheeljack realised that his audios had been blown out. All he knew was that the dark blue femme was like an angelic apparition amongst the ruins of his invention fail. Wheeljack watched, seemingly detached, as she reached him, green optics wide with concern.

And then everything came swirling back as her hand touched his chest and a spark of energy lanced between them – inadvertently re-activating his pain sensors. The last thing he remembered before off-lining again was Picyries' horrified expression as he let out a long, echoing yell of pain.

* * *

Ariea

The bright, cherry red femme was in her quarters, looking aimlessly up at the ceiling from where she was lying on her berth while she stroked her chestplates absently. The procedure was successful. She was with spark without having to bond to a mech. It felt strange. It made her feel…off was really the only word to describe it. There was life growing within her, and she felt like she had cheated all the femmes. After all, why had Kup chosen her? Really? Surely wouldn't it have been better to give the spark energy away to one of the less combative femmes? Like Quicksilver or Delira? She could handle herself fine without the weapons. Capricornia and the command femmes had taught her well in the art of hand to hand combat – she was one of the best warriors for frag's sake! Why pick her?

'_You heard what Kup said,'_ a part of her thought, '_He thought it be better to get you back in action in order to protect the other femmes and their sparkling when the time comes.'_

But by that definition, wouldn't Sagittari have been a better choice? She was the Zodiac leader, and would surely been better to protect than Ariea was.

Sighing, Ariea rubbed the sensor horns on her helm to soothe herself. This thinking was giving her a processor ache. She still felt off though. Normally, she was socialising, out and about, being active and participating in everyday life – but she had secluded herself ever since the night of the party. Of course, Sagittari had tried to talk to her, but she gave up after a while of pounding at the door.

And now she wanted to cry…she wanted to feel herself again. _Why? WHY?_ This was driving her up the wall.

Closing her emerald optics to the world, the warrior forced herself into recharge…if she didn't she was sure to go crazy.

* * *

Air Raid

The flier was walking down to see Powerglide for a quick catch up session. Although the showy mech wasn't part of the Aerialbots, he still practised with them and therefore became part of the talks that all the fliers did with each other after their practise. However, today the red masked flier had asked Air Raid to come and hour later than usual, and now Air Raid was finally making that time.

As reached the row of quarters that Powerglide was in, the jet saw Wildside step out of the red fliers room. Now this would not have been suspicious if not for the red flecks of paint on her mostly black paintjob, and the stain of some fluid on her upper thighs.

Air Raid instantly became livid. He had 'faced her a few nights ago at the night of the party. And now she was evidently sleeping with another mech.

Wildside looked up and noticed him, but didn't say a thing. She simply gave a little smirk, wiggled her hips and moved on down the hallway, completely aware of what she had done and Air Raid's reaction. The mostly white flyer could only stare, gobsmacked, at her audacity. Yeah, he knew it was just a bit of fun between them on the dancefloor, but for the black, green and gold femme just to hop into another mech's berth…

…well, it wasn't that uncommon back on Cybertron, but now it was just too shocking for Air Raid…I mean, for Powerglide to have –

'_Ew, don't think it,'_ the jet thought, shaking his helm. Turning back, Air Raid realised he couldn't have that meeting now, he'd be too busy thinking about what the heck Powerglide and Wildside had done.

But part of him was really, really fragged off.

* * *

Elsewhere – Decepticon base.

Megatron was in the control room, mercifully alone in quiet silence as he flicked through a datapad. It had been an eventful week so far and there was still one more day to go. Tomorrow, Soundwave had requested that he and two of the femmes go scouting for energon sources to exploit as soon as the next three weeks of truce were over. Although the warlord found it odd that Soundwave was taking two femmes, but he did not ever question the loyal telepath.

And if it was for the stoic mech to have some fun, then Megatron couldn't care less. After all, everyone had their secrets, including him.

A quiet beeping distracted Megatron. It was Shockwave's signal from Cybertron.

Hoping for some news that wouldn't make his processor ache, and absently wondering if Thunderblast had driven Shockwave up the wall, the silver mech reached forward to play the transmission. It was not just Shockwave, but the visage of Thunderblast with him that greeted Megatrons wary crimson optics.

"My Lord, the highest salutations. I trust that you are well?" asked Shockwave politely – as he always did – his single yellow optic flashing as he spoke.

Nodding, Megatron replied, "Well, thank you. What can I do for you Shockwave?"

"More like, please don't throw a hissy fit when you hear what's going to come out of our mouths," grinned Thunderblast, looking like the cat who ate the cream. The first thing Megatron noticed in the femme's tone was that she didn't use the usual rolling 'r's' that came with her wanting to seduce a mech.

Attempting to continue to appear controlled, Megatron replied, "Thunderblast, it is Starscream who throws the 'hissy fits.' I simply destroy."

Thunderblast laughed over the visual feed, but Shockwave seemed to tense more and become embarrassed.

Suspicious, the Decepticon commander demanded, "What is it Shockwave?"

There was no reply from the mouthless mech. Instead, Thunderblast said, "Do remind me to congratulate dear Starscream the next time I see him. He did make such a successful virus. After all, Shockwave applied it to me to see if I was joking, but I was obviously not. And now, I find myself bonded with a former lover. A happy little ending." She tittered as she saw her commanders face as he realised the impacts of her statement.

'_Oh, this just puts the high-grade on the oilcake,'_ grumbled Megatron internally. The past week with a femme Starscream had been enough without this. Grinding out his voice, the silver mech noted with satisfaction how Shockwave seemed to shrink under his glare. "How far along?"

"Hmmm…four Earth days. Which means another two and a half weeks before a Decepticon sparkling is online and functioning," said Thunderblast. She had shifted her pose, and was now curling her form over Shockwaves.

"My liege…I beg your forgiveness-" began the purple mech, but Megatron waved it off.

"Personally Shockwave? I don't care right now. If you want to keep her as your toy, lover, bondmate, it is no concern of mine. You are a mech, not a youngling, and I expect you act with maturity. If you need supplies desperately, contact me. Until the sparkling arrives, I have no desire to hear about anymore of this," ordered the warlord. He was being brutally honest. He _did_ have no desire to think about the situation, because of the mentally scarring images his processor conjured up in his mind. His loyal lieutenant with the slutty femme was an odd combination, but he wanted not to think any longer on it.

"Thank you for your mercy, my liege," Shockwave intoned, before he cut the connection.

'_It wasn't mercy Shockwave. It's called saving my processor from mental images,'_ Megatron thought.

* * *

**A/n: In case you were confused with that last part there, what happened was: Thunderblast went back to Cybertron. She told Shockwave about the virus. ****He tested it on her to see if it worked, and then he realised (a bit too late) that he was the only mech around. So…after Shockwave bonded with her, they realised they still had a sexual appetite for each other from their previous relationship and…here they are. **

**Also, if you thought the parts with Ariea and Air Raid were confusing, they were supposed to be, because I tried to capture their mental states in a flummox because of their circumstances. **

**Next up: The past week from the DECEPTICON perspective (one from Megs, Star, Slips, and Sounders respectively.)**


	24. Decepticon Diaries: Megatron

**A/N: When I mention a new day, I will put the chapter title that the Autobots went through (eg, Jazzman begins) so you can understand the sequence of days better. THIS IS IMPORTANT! Or else you will be like 'huh?' at some points. It will be the same layout for 3 chapters after this one, and then after that it will be normal. You all know the usual disclaimers.**

* * *

Of Femmes and Sparklings – Chapter 24 – Decepticon Diaries: Megatron

* * *

_Day One – After 'Aftermath'_

I am exhausted after today. Me, the mighty slag maker and terrifying leader of the Decepticons, is slaggin tired. The Autobots may be onto something if they have me so exhausted that I don't want to anything but recharge. Might have to do something like this to them. Pit, I'm so tired and so out of balance from today that I'm filling in this THING!

I blame Soundwave for this, it was his idea.

His reasoning being '_all commanding officers should have a journal to document our victories as well as our inner battle with ourselves.'_ Probably meaning, write out whatever you are feeling so we don't slag each other as much.

I don't think it's worked…but that is beside the object for today.

Starscream is a femme. I might as well document how it happened. I was woken this morning from recharge by his…her scream. Knowing that she usually doesn't scream incomprehensively early in the morning (she's a lazy slagger in the morning – but active at night) I dragged myself off the berth and marched to her room to threaten her to shut up, but in seeing Soundwave, Thundercracker and Skywarp heading into Starscreams quarters, I gathered something more serious was occurring.

So imagine my shock when my SIC who had been a mech yesterday is a femme today. And I'm not surprised or shocked easily.

And since this diary is only able to be accessed by myself and myself alone, I will admit – Starscream looks much better as a femme to the optics. But then again, that may be because I like the femme frame. But Starscream…I think that she would have to be the best looking Seeker Regina throughout Cybertron history. I know because I researched the Seeker Regina's when I first came to power.

Ah! Fraggit, I don't know why I'm reacting like this. She's my traitorous SIC aerial commander! I should not be noticing how attractive she looks even though she is now a femme!

Bah, I'm going to have a word with Soundwave, this is not helping at all.

On another note, I am pleased with Barricade's reaction, or should I say, lack of reaction towards the disappearance of his bondmate. I was beginning to suspect that he had actually fallen for her – as sad as it would be that he would have been ensnared by the femme's wiles. But by his reaction, he doesn't care at all. Good. I do not need a security director who has his helm in the stratosphere because of an Autobot femme. It is a shame though, that the sparkling went with the femme. It would have potentially been a great new recruit to the mighty Decepticon cause.

I'm actually beginning to like the idea of having a month off from the war now.

* * *

Day Two – While 'Jazzman Begins'

Well, I've decided not to slag Soundwave, because this thing is going to prove useful for blackmail in the future. Whenever Motormaster acts up again, I'll remind him of the little incident that happened today. It was rather amusing actually.

Of course, it centred around Starscream (doesn't it always?). She decided to take her chances with the rest of the crew, coming out of her quarters to our rec-room. Presumably, she thought that no mech would come up to her and put their moves on her. Ha! She should have known that Motormaster tries to go after anything that has a port and moves until it proves that he doesn't have a chance. It was exactly what happened today.

I, for once, was in the rec-room when Starscream walked – no, strutted more like the vain fragger – in and got a cube and sat down at a table, her little nose in the air as she sipped. Watching her, I almost laughed…she had already adopted some femme like postures.

But I digress.

And like all events that wait to happen, what happened next was severely typical of Motormaster. He trumped in with his crew of half-bit maniacs and proceeded to stalk up to Starscream and plonk himself down in the chair next to her. In true Starscream style, she turned up her nose and primly got up to escape, but the idiot of a Stunticon leader decided to pull her down onto his lap. I should ask Hook to see to Motormaster's processor, he's obviously lost a few chips if he thinks that Starscream would stand for that.

What happened next I would have paid good credits for.

She smirked, turned around in the brutes lap, pressed her mouth to his audio's and screamed. _Screamed!_ As in audial shattering screams. Motormaster was now adding to the noise, yelling in pain, and I had no doubt at the time that he was deaf. Starscream then got her left thrusters (I could not help but notice how limber she was – she was still in his lap) swung it up to the brutes face and fired them up.

Melting the right side of his face.

And while Hook was not pleased with the fact he had to fix the Stunticon leader's face, he was pleased by the way she had defended herself. It was a very ingenious way of using thrusters if I do say so myself. After the incident, Starscream stormed off into her quarters, screeching all the way. I believe I saw Thundercracker making his way after her. Good. If there is one of my soldiers who can reason with Starscream, it is him.

…hmm…

I still can't get the sight of Starscream swinging her thrusters up to melt Motormasters face. It certainly made my day, before I went back to the mundane duties that come with being a leader.

Must remind myself to check on Soundwave. He was acting odd (well, worse than usual) today. I hope it doesn't mess with his duties.

* * *

Day Three - _During Gladiators and Healing Sparks_

It is official. My Stunticon leader is an idiot. I actually feel sorry for the rest of his gestalt. They have to share a mini rec room together with their quarters leading off, and have to follow his orders without question unless I override them. I shudder to think what it would be like to be gestalt-bonded to the scrap of a brute. I might as well type/write/_(whatever the hell it is Soundwave!)_ it down. I was wrong in thinking that Motormaster would leave Starscream alone after yesterday. So very, very wrong.

Hook was right…she needed me (Primus, how awful does that sound? I'm cringing for both Starscream and I here) to ward off idiots like Motormaster.

On another tangent, might I add that I wish I didn't work with idiots?

Anyway, if it wasn't for the fact I went to go deliver a datapad to my SIC as she was doing inventory on spare ammunitions (she had to do something, she was going stir crazy), I have a feeling that she would have been emotionally scarred for the rest of her existence. I know what Motormaster can do in 'those' sorts of situations. It reminds me of when I was younger and when I was first in power – the temptation of dark energon was too great, and I do regret to say I did not show as much respect to femmes as I should have. But Motormaster is lucid. He is conscious of his actions. And it repulses me more than I care to admit. Even though I stoop to many lows, I have realised there are things that should always remain untouched.

Starscream should remain untouched. I need her to maintain her sanity – she does have a brilliant processor after all, loath as I am to admit it. I am strangely glad that I prevented Motormaster from forcing Starscream.

The weapons locker Starscream was in was close to the bottom of our base, and it very hard to hear sounds from there. Which is why I didn't hear her screams until I was one level above. Her screams, although slightly higher pitched than usual because of her gender transition, are distinctive. I took off running, knowing that Starscream only screams if she's hurt or angry.

I smashed the doors open, only to be greeted with a sickening sight. Breakdown and Dead End held Starscreams arms against the wall, while Wildrider and Drag Strip held her long, white and blue legs apart while keeping her pedes on the ground. Though I noticed that the looks on their faces were slightly reluctant, like they didn't want to be there. Not that I _cared _at the time.

And Motormaster. He was harshly digging is fingers of one hand into a red hip while the other – having realised that Starscream needed to stop screaming – was covering her mouth. He was whispering what he was going to do to her in her audial, lewdly pressing his bulk up against her and grinding. At least neither of their panels were off. _That_ would have made me homicidal, not just angry.

Because I saw the look on Starscream's face. Never, _ever_ have I seen Starscream that scared. Even when I would deliver beatings to her when she was a mech, I never saw the complete lowering of her emotional guard. Here, she was trembling, trying to get out of the clutches of the gestalt. One thing the fraggers did right for themselves was to turn off her comm. link so she couldn't contact anyone.

And she saw me. Not since she joined up as a young flier I have seen the look of pure admiration directed at me. Her crimson optics silently pleaded with me to get her free.

I don't remember much of what happened after that point. All I remember is the feeling of rage and a lust for mech blood to coat my hands.

Suffice to say, my fusion cannon got a nice work out.

Now I have a whole gestalt in Hook's tender mercies (he is considering my request to take out their processors and make them drones. At least they will be easier to control) in various states of damage. Motormaster…hahaha, the idiot will never look the same. His whole face is slagged and both legs torn off. I think he's got a few blast marks too. He's the worst one. I went a little easier on the rest of the fools that call themselves his gestalt.

My extent to my point of remembrance came when I was standing over their unconscious forms in the weapons locker, and having a shaking and trembling Starscream walk unsteadily toward me and crush me in a hug of relief.

It was…odd. But I guess that's because I've never been saved from a possible rape. I patted her helm and she stepped away, glaring at the twisted visage of Motormaster on the ground before mumbling something that sounded like, "_Thanks…rust bucket," _before stalking out of the room, arms wrapped around her own cockpit in comfort.

I shudder to think what her reaction to mechs would have been like if Motormaster had succeeded.

Well, if I know Starscream, she'll be fine within a few days. Her mental resolve if not anything is stubborn. She'll be calling me an old fool in no time.

Again…Soundwave is not the same. Neither is Slipstream, Shadow Striker and Flamewar. They are acting suspiciously. I sincerely hope that it doesn't interfere with the relative peace of this month.

* * *

Day Four – During 'Party'

Well, the conduct of the three femmes and Soundwave has straightened. Good. Like I need any more drama. The stunticon gestalt is now locked in the brig, and will be for the next three days. Motormaster is on quarter rations, while the rest of his gestalt is on half rations.

I have noticed throughout my day that a certain tri-coloured jet has been sticking relatively close to me if her trinemates are not with her. I'm sure that it's just insecurity from the events that transpired yesterday. It was unsettling really. I have never had Starscream trying to stay in my vicinity so much. At least she's not planning another takeover bid. When that happens, that's when Starscream is the most absent.

Apart from that, a really uneventful day.

Pity…I would have relished the chance for another idiot to slag if they come near Starscream again.

* * *

_Day Five – During 'Mother Nature'_

DEAR PRIMUS WOULD IT KILL YOU TO ACTUALLY GIVE ME MORE INTELLIGENT SOLDIERS?

Oh how I wanted to throw Astrotrain and Blitzwing in the same brig cell with Motormaster and let them beat each other to slag. Another thing to do with my fraggin' SIC! In her defence though, she was an innocent bystander.

I don't care what the hell that those two triple changers were arguing about, but the fact that they had just started going at it in the rec-room at its fullest time was nothing short of stupid. Almost as stupid as that little red Autobot menace when he tries to take on a few too many of my men. Anyway, instead of just restricting themselves to physical blows, they oh so intelligently decided to use their weapons.

A round from one of Blitzwing's guns it Starscreams left wing. In a spot that had lost some of its armour plating when she got injected with the virus.

Cue the audial shattering scream of pain.

Would it kill someone to leave Starscream alone? Her screams are like a weapon sometimes.

…hey, that's not a bad idea.

Anyway, another drama around Starscream. At least it's Skywarp and Thundercracker that had to endure her rant of rage as they took her to the medbay. I know that the Constricticons are a little fed up right now because of all the fixing they had to do on the Stunticons. They also have little tolerance for stupidity as well. They are the sanest among my men apart from Soundwave.

I have also noticed that half the femmes have been lying lower than usual. I have rarely seen Slipstream, Shadow Striker or Flamewar today. Slipstream, at least, is usually out and about, being bossy.

She is a good femme commander, but she can be a right pain in the aft when she's bossy and bitchy. Slipstream is a relative of Starscream after all. But she's a femme seeker also, and she can be promiscuous at times. When she's out and about the base, she likes to continuously show off how she's dominant to other mechs. Which is why I'm glad she hasn't been around so much.

At least she isn't like _Thunderblast_. If I had to be locked in a room with one of them, I would pick Slipstream over Thunderblast in a sparkbeat. At least Slipstream won't try to seduce me.

At least a positive today though. I was able to send out a few teams in pairs to go scout for energon spots that we can tap into without the Autobots knowing. And also for when the month of truce ends. I think that Soundwave wants to organise one for himself, but I think he's waiting for the right time (for him) to ask.

Why do I have this feeling that I won't be bored?

* * *

Day Six – During 'New Sensation'

I think I saw a side of Starscream that I haven't seen for millennia. A more peaceful calm side. The part that was more rational and calm at the beginning of the war, when she was a mech that looked up to me with such admiration and determination to please. Before she became a backstabbing mech SIC who I had to beat to get it through her thick processor.

I had to ask Thundercracker where she was. I was assigning her more work to do in order to keep her at the state she has been. Apart from the incidents, she's been easier to deal with. The blue mech told me that she was outside, satisfying her need for flight.

I went out through a window exit, using my little used jet propulsion system in my legs. They get me around, but nowhere near the calibre of Starscream. When I reached the surface, I had to stop and stare. Even though she wasn't in jet mode, Starscream proved today that she is still the fastest and most graceful flyer in the sky. It was fascinating to watch really. Or maybe it was because I haven't simply watched things in a while now.

When she finally noticed me, she came spinning down at an alarming speed before stopping abruptly feet from the ground, hovering impatiently.

"What?" she snapped.

"So sorry to interrupt your 'me time' but I have some matters for you to take care of," I replied. She narrowed those crimson optics at me before dropping lightly to the ground and taking the datapad offered to her. After flicking through it, she asked, "Do I have to do them right now?"

"No," I answered. I had forgotten that some Seekers can go insane if they are not allowed to fly after a specific amount of time. I had forgotten that Starscream was one such Seeker. I might as well indulge her after the events of the past few days. She does deserve a slight reprieve. After all, I think if the virus had been used on me instead I would have been far less sane than Starscream is acting.

"Anything else?" Starscream said. Her tone was somewhat weary as she said it and I tilted my head to the side.

"How are you finding the transition Starscream?" I enquired. Even though I am known to treat Starscream like slag in the past, I think it is fair to say that I can break my stereotype.

She snorted and glared at me, spitting bitterly, "What do you think? I've been attacked twice in the past few days, some of the mechs still whistle at me, I have lost some of my armour, can't use any weapons and I am a FEMME! You tell me!"

Sitting down on the ground, I stayed silent. I allowed her to vent. I had come to hold some empathy for my Aerial commander.

She vented a harsh sigh and sat beside me, giving a bit of distance between our frames. She draw her knees up to her yellow-glassed cockpit and rested her helm on them, rocking slightly. "You want the truth oh mighty leader? Do you? Because I feel so fraggin' weak right now. Worthless. And you know what? Part of me is running scared since what happened with fraggin' Motormaster. And you know what the kicker is? The fact that you of all mechs feel safe to me, apart from 'Warp and 'Cracker. It's nuts! I still can't believe I _hugged_ you the other day. We've hated each other for so long, and now I keep making sure that you are around so I know I'm not going to be somebody's bitch. And I hate it that I feel so weak. I hate the Autobots. I hate my own idea for the virus. I hate not being certain and knowing. Fraggin' WEAKNESS!"

I was shocked to say the least. Maybe my assumptions weren't so correct after all. Maybe she needed more support. I didn't know what prompted me to say this next statement, but I said it anyway. "We were friends once Starscream," I pointed out. "If it may help, we would maybe-"

I was interrupted by her yelling, "What? So you can slag me when I'm being all buddy-buddy with you?"

"Do you want to feel safe or not?" I barked back. She really could be annoyingly stubborn at times. This was the only time I was going to make this offer.

She fell silent for a while mulling it over. I waited, idly looking over the grassy hill we were on. Finally I detected a movement. Focusing my optics, I realised that Starscream was holding a hand out for me to shake. I took it and shook it. Good. Maybe I could reign in Starscream once and for all.

* * *

_Day Seven – During 'meet the humans'_

Oh I wish I could erase memories. Thunderblast and Shockwave…Thunderblast and _Shockwave!_ Eugh, the mental images are horrible. How on Cybertron can they stand to be bonded to one another? And expecting a _sparkling!_ Shockwave has no room for love in his emotional centre (save for his love of work) and Thunderblast is the biggest pleasure bot this side of the Andromeda galaxy.

Ew. Just ew. I know that is a childish response, but Starscream agrees with my sentiments when I told her. But at least she could laugh about it. I am still wanting to purge my tanks.

Oh dear Primus have mercy on their sparkling, it's going to be messed up enough with those bots for creators.

Eugh, still tired.

Can't forget though, tomorrow Soundwave, Shadow Striker and Flamewar are going to scout a possible energon source.

I hate diaries. Just saying.

**A/N: I had so much fun writing some of this! Especially the last day! I hope everyone understands when this was set. It would suck if you didn't. REVIEWS ARE LOVED! Starscream's POV of the week is coming up. It's going to be angsty.**

**On another note…I got Perceptor! He's adorable, even though he's got this truck like alt mode. He's so pose able! I've also got a Movieverse Jazz coming in soon.**


	25. Decepticon Diaries: Starscream

**A/N: When I mention a new day, I will put the chapter title that the Autobots went through (eg, Jazzman begins) so you can understand the sequence of days better. THIS IS IMPORTANT! Or else you will be like 'huh?' at some points. It will be the same layout for 2 chapters after this one, and then after that it will be normal. YOU ALL KNOW THE DISCLAIMERS! I wish I owned Transformers :(**

* * *

**Of Femmes and Sparklings – Chapter 25 – Decepticon Diaries: Starscream**

* * *

_Day One – After 'Aftermath'_

* * *

If I could scream in a journal (I am NOT calling this datapad a diary), I would. But I think I've done enough for today, my vocaliser is starting to scratch.

BUT I WANT TO SCREAM BECAUSE I'M A FEMME! THIS SHOULD NOT HAVE HAPPENED TO ME!

I suppose I should write it all down. Just as a reminder to add fuel to my fire to extract my revenge. Yesterday, I was still crowing about my victory with the virus from the Autobot femmes. I was a mech. Then I wake up this morning…only to discover they _turned my own virus against me and turned me into a femme!_

I've even got the interfacing components!

…frag, slag, and all the rest! All the way to Vector Sigma!

I could have killed Skywarp today. The little fraggin' toad kept teasing me by whistling and saying how 'pretty' I was compared to Slipstream (and I'm not saying I'm not, it's just Skywarp shouldn't be so obnoxious). At least Thundercracker gave me some support. He won trinemate of the day today (-_-).

Oh, and let's not forget the little thing of finding out I'm the new Seeker Regina. Pit, why me? Skywarp doesn't really know all the requirements of it, but Thundercracker does. It's more than being the ruler of Vos (when we defeat the Autobots, I will raise Vos up and rule), it's being the caretaker, the rulemaker, and the sparker. Yeah, that's right, the Seeker Regina has to be sparked up. Tradition states that the Regina must spark at least one trine in her reign, as well as other sparklings. Also, when bonded couples who couldn't produce sparklings themselves or single bots wanted a creation, the Seeker Regina also appealed to the priests of the temple of the Allspark and requested permission for those bots to gain a creation via the Allspark.

BUT I DON'T WANNA BE SPARKED UP!

This stupid virus means I have to bond with someone and have little baby Cons with them! Who the FRAG would I have to choose? Everyone on this base is nixed (Cracker and Warp even more so – they've had secret lovers for AGES), they are all idiots or brutes.

Frag it, it's an honour, really, to be Seeker Regina, but I'm still thinking like I'm a mech! Hook said my systems will fully synch by late tomorrow, but it's still so….so…awkward!

Especially when Megatron came in the room and saw me as a femme for the first time. Beyond awkwardness.

At least there was one thing I can get a kick out of…Soundwave fainting from the fact I was a femme. Ha! I wish I had a datacapture of that moment.

…

…On another, more serious note, sometimes with situations like these, I keep forgetting how young I am. How inexperienced I am. I may be the SIC and Aerial Commander, but I am younger than approximately 85% of the Decepticon army. In a way, I'm glad Soundwave made the command element do these journals. It does help (NOT that I'd let him know that) to get things out. Calm down slightly.

I can't change back, no matter how much I wish.

I should have never invented that virus in the first place.

* * *

_Day Two – While 'Jazzman Begins'_

* * *

Oh, this situation just keeps getting better and better! Thundercracker and Skywarp cornered me before I went to go and get my morning energon – it turns out I wasn't the only one who got infected with the virus. Slipstream (ha, she won't like that), Flamewar and Shadow Striker got it too. And you know those secret lovers that I mentioned yesterday? Well, now because of this, Thundercracker has bonded to Flamewar and Shadow Striker to Skywarp. I've known though all along. They have done such a good job of keeping their relationships a secret from the rest of the army. _And_ they are built on substance. Actually, now that I think about it, Thundercracker and Flamewar have been together since the beginning of the war! 'Warp and Striker have been together for about a quarter of that time. I know they love each other.

Oh yes, that dreaded 'L-word.' Well believe me, it's true. Not soft and sappy like I've seen some of those Autobots (please insert gagging motion here) do, but it's a love based on strength and respect about what the other can do. Rare in the Decepticon army, but doable.

Ha, I should be so lucky.

Anyway, my trinemates told me that they've bonded and their partners are now expecting sparklings. I also know that Slipstream made it an order to terminate the sparklings once they have been formed. Autobots think that Megatron and I are the most terrifying and horrible things in the universe? Oh no, I usually concede defeat when Slipstream makes an order such as this. She is the most manipulative and evil femme I've ever met, and that is saying something.

I'm no avatar of Primus, but to order to terminate a sparkling (especially when they could grow up to be Decepticons) is cold. I wonder if my cousin even has a spark sometimes.

I, however, want to see those sparklings live. They are the new generation of mighty and glorious Decepticons.

And I could expose Slipstream's order - being a higher rank than her - , but then that would also expose my trinemates and their bondmates – which I cannot do on any terms. Those two mechs (as annoying as they can be sometimes) have had my back for many years. I have _some_ loyalty in me. I will protect them with my silence.

Now, back to me and my day. Note to self: when I get weapons systems back, jam my null ray up Motormasters aft and fire at full power.

Seriously, does he have to go after _everything_ that has a port and walks? Why can't he just use his hand like many other mechs? Seems to work for everyone else…but no, not the most ignoramus idiot in the whole army and his little gang of wimps have to go after the real thing, and keep trying after someone says 'no.'

What happened? You may ask this journal.

Well, after my trinemates information, I went to go get my morning energon. Even though I am a femme now, I have a right as the SIC to do basically anything I want – including getting my fuel. On the way, I got wide stares, crude whistles and the occasional remark. I ignored them, they were not important.

I had just got my cube and was sitting at a table sipping my ration (I thought Megatron was watching me as I did this), when the idiot of a stunticon leader came and sat next to me. TO ME! The mech (femme) who he would never agree with.

And then the idiot had to pull me into his lap…ha, well I showed him. I need to draw up schematics to get an amplifier for my screams so that they can knock a mech out, not just deafen them (Motormaster and Skywarp). I'll have to ask the idiot later…how does it feel to get a scorching hot thruster to the face? And if I didn't know better, I could have sworn that Megatron was trying not to smile as I left.

Thundercracker caught up with me as I left – he wanted to make sure I was ok. It's nice of him. He's such a strong, silent mech, only the bare few know he's actually very protective about those he cares about. I re-assured him. I am actually more worried for him and Flamewar. He told me that she wants the sparkling to live, same as him, but they know they won't be able to hide it from Slipstream once the sparkling onlines. I shudder to think what Slipstream would do.

Speaking of Slipstream…I haven't seen her _or_ Soundwave today. What's up with that? They hate each other, so they can't possibly be in each other's company but still…something is suspicious about it.

As for the rest of the day…I was _so_ bored. I have nothing to do.

* * *

_Day Three_ – _During Gladiators and Healing Sparks_

* * *

Deep breath. Deep, deep breath…stop freaking out, stop freaking out, STOP FREAKING OUT!

So not working. So sarcasm is my tool of choice. Maybe.

Well, today I almost had my first sexual experience as a femme. Yeah! Fun! N.O.T.!

I can't believe that Motormaster would actually come after me! I thought he got the message yesterday to back the frag off!

My hands are still shaking. WHY ARE THEY STILL SHAKING!

Must breathe…breathe…ok, maybe I'll be ready to write this down.

I was doing a job (finally, my oh so mighty leader realised that I needed something to do), just going through the spare ammo in one of the lower weapons lockers, when I heard the door open. I had left it without locking it, thinking that no one would come down here to see me, so I needn't have worried about it. Or I shouldn't of anyway. I heard footsteps, and was almost finished counting a crate of cluster bombs when I felt a hand grab my wing and slam me to the nearest wall.

I was so disoriented, I almost didn't hear a deep, gravelly voice growl, "Pin her arms and legs. DO IT! Or I take my sword to your energon lines!"

Motormaster and his band of merry idiots.

Said merry idiots did as they were bid, grabbing my arms and legs and holding them in place while I still struggled to get oriented. When my fuzzy vision finally cleared, I was greeted with Motormasters ugly visage, mere feet from my own faceplate. He was smirking, licking his lips. And then I realised where his gaze was. On my cockpit and breastplates. One thing was for sure, I did **not** like that look on his face. He reached forward to touch my body, frozen by fear – a fear I did even know I could have, and I did the only thing I could do.

My famous scream.

Amping my vocaliser as far as it could go, I screamed shrilly, hoping to deafen the Stunticon team so I could wriggle out of their grimy grasp and escape. I trashed and kicked out, but realised they weren't letting go. They were all cringing in pain as my scream descended on their audios, but they held fast much to my displeasure. I spat at Motormaster, and screamed once again, trying desperately to get out of there. I ignited my thrusters, but still they didn't let go.

Fear, like a black wave of cold oil, crashed over my spark, swamping me in despair. They were going to do this to me…Motormaster really wanted to take me! He didn't care about the consequences!

I felt a little pity for his team. They looked like they wished nothing more than to let me go, but the threat from their leader kept them frozen in place…like me.

I felt a hand cover my still shrieking mouth, and the tiny inkling of hope I had disappeared. No one would be able to hear me now. I felt the brute reach around my helm and turn off my comm.-link by the manual switch. I trembled in fear. I saw him grin and one hand gripped the top of my hip hard, denting the crimson metal. My optics widened as he leant forward to whisper in my audio as he ground his lower half against me, "When I'm done with you, you're gonna wish you had been nice to me yesterday _air commander_. I coulda made you feel good. But no, I'm going to enjoy this. And then after, if I'm feeling generous, my gestalt can take you, one by one, or two at a time, while I watch and laugh. What do you think about that?"

I almost broke down crying in fear when I saw something behind Motormaster that made my spark swell with joy. Megatron was in the doorway, an expression of disgust on his faceplates. I didn't care that I usually didn't like my leader and tried to get rid of him on a weekly basis, I was SO relieved to see him. He seemed at the time like Primus himself to my optics.

I saw the murderous gleam in his optics and heard the hum of his fusion cannon.

They were so going to get their afts kicked.

What happened next was nothing short of amazing. Megatron, with pin point accuracy, took out the four mechs holding me down, before he leaped forward with a roar, grabbing Motormaster by his neck to throw him to the far side of the room. And let me tell you, that's not an easy feat, Motormaster is as heavy as they come. I looked on in half-admiration and half-fear as Megatron attacked him, using his bare hands to pummel and punch every inch of Motormaster as he could as the brute tried to explain his actions.

I caught a few snippets, such as: '_My Lord, it was a game,'_ and, '_It was just a prank, a bit of fun on the traitor!'_

I don't think Megatron heard, he snarled and continued methodically to break every bit of the mech beneath him he could reach. I heard the snapping of metal plates, and flinched as Megatron tore Motormaster's legs off, but couldn't bring myself to feel sorry for the dark mech. He deserved it for what he had been about to do to me. I realised I was still trembling and hugging myself now, stroking my own cockpit to calm me down.

It seemed like Megatron was done, as he stood up and fired one concentrated blast at Motormaster's head. He was never going to look the same again. Megatron's hands were partially covered in mech fluid, and I had a sudden epiphany like moment.

Megatron, the mech who claimed to hate me and I him, had just rescued me. Rescued…me…took on a whole gestalt with such efficiency…in such an awe-inspiring manner that I couldn't help but be grateful to my leader. His large silver frame turned to face me, and I shakily stepped towards him. There were no words. I can't believe I went so far as to wrap my arms around him in a crushing hug. I felt safe for once. Protected and filled with gratitude (this disturbs me now) like never before. He patted me awkwardly (at least he didn't push me to the ground) and I looked up at him and mumbled "Thanks…rust bucket."

I left, hoping that he wouldn't ridicule my actions later. It took strength to hug him and thank him. It felt weird.

Oh good, my hands have stopped shaking.

* * *

_Day Four – During 'Party'_

* * *

I felt like a pathetic turbo-pup today, following Megatron around like he was my master. But I was scared after the events of yesterday. And he protected me as insane as that was.

Urgh, I don't want to write about how pathetic I am. At least I didn't get any rape attempts today.

* * *

_Day Five – During 'Mother Nature'_

* * *

I don't know what possessed me to go near the Autobot base. I don't know what possessed me to follow the Autobots near that valley. But when I saw Skyfire, I felt sad right down to the core of my spark. He had been such a dear friend to me before the war, and I know that we both thought that the other had betrayed us once we separated to different factions. But seeing him stirred something within me. I took off, but I knew he heard me.

So it wasn't too much of a surprise that he caught up with me later, before I had to go back to base (careful I wasn't spotted – I can't transform).

We stared at each other silently, before he chuckled drily and said, "Looking good Starscream."

I huffed at him, "Don't joke, it sucks."

"It's sucks for our femmes too," he replied quietly. I didn't answer him. I didn't want him to go, not yet.

"Look, can we just talk? I have sort of an idea about something…can you listen?" I asked sincerely. I knew within myself that I was going out on a limb, that I was crazy, but I am a scientist at spark, and I have to try every possibility before ruling it out.

He sat down, and I smiled slightly. Nothing had changed at all about Skyfire. Venting deeply, I began. "You know how we were good friends a long time ago?" He nodded. "Well, I was thinking about how tight we were. And how we looked after the other, doing almost anything. And…then my processor went to the virus and…well, I thought of you."

The bigger mech across from me stiffened slightly before enunciating, "What do you mean Starscream?"

"Um…well, I have to get rid of the virus. And there is not a lot of options at my base, because they are all idiots. I thought about who I trusted. You are one of those few who are at the top of the list. I know we have definitely grown apart, but if you could help me out Skyfire, I would be eternally grateful," I finished. I hoped and prayed.

The shuttle sighed and looked at me with something akin to pity. My hope faded. "Starscream," he said gently. Oh no. That was his apologetic face. "I can't do that. Even if we were on friendlier terms, I wouldn't. It would just be too…awkward and it's not fair for either you or me. I'm sorry. If I felt I could, I would Starscream. But my spark is telling me it's not right."

I sighed and looked at the ground. I was expecting that, but it didn't lessen the sting.

"But, if you really need me. As in _really _need me to help you, not with spark bonding, comm. me. I'll always be friendly towards you," Skyfire supplied, hoping to lessen the blow. I felt happy at that. I went up to him and hugged him, letting him know what I thought of his suggestion. I also hoped to convey how sorry I was how the war separated us. I left immediately after, before I completely lost myself and begged him to keep me safe. He's my best friend.

When I got back to base for some energon though, I got hurt again *sighs* does it ever stop? Seriously, the triple-changers have got to take their idioticy to the training arena or somewhere that's NOT THE REC-ROOM!

Ow, my wings still hurt from where that idiot Blitzwing got me. At least Hook was actually tender in his care for once, knowing how sensitive my wings are. It annoys me though, as 'Warp and 'Cracker got me to the med-bay today, Soundwave's little twins kept wolf-whistling at me. Frenzy even dared to call out, 'Hey beautiful!' Urgh. He's such a little perv.

On another note, it was funny that Megatron yelled at both Astrotrain and Blitzwing. I could hear his bellows from the medbay.

* * *

_Day Six – During 'New Sensation'_

* * *

I'm pathetic. I really am. So is Megatron. No wonder we haven't won the war. We're pathetic.

How could I expose myself like that? How could he? I was minding my own business, flying lazily about in the sky near base where my sensor readings can be cloaked, when I saw Megatron watching me on the ground. I rolled my optics, knowing that he wouldn't be there for a good reason. It's odd that I don't feel much animosity against him. Not after what he did a few days ago.

So I came down. I didn't like being interrupted from flying so I barked "What?"

The smarmy bugger said something about interrupting my 'me-time.' At least he got something right. He brought me work to do at least. I was going stir-crazy. We traded some formalitites for a little bit before he asked me a question that made me (to use a human term) spill my guts.

"What do you think? I've been attacked twice in the past few days, some of the mechs still whistle at me, I have lost some of my armour, can't use any weapons and I am a FEMME! You tell me!" I sat down and continued to rant. "You want the truth oh mighty leader? Do you? Because I feel so fraggin' weak right now. Worthless. And you know what? Part of me is running scared since what happened with fraggin' Motormaster. And you know what the kicker is? The fact that you of all mechs feel safe to me, apart from 'Warp and 'Cracker. It's nuts! I still can't believe I _hugged_ you the other day. We've hated each other for so long, and now I keep making sure that you are around so I know I'm not going to be somebody's bitch. And I hate it that I feel so weak."

From the look on the old fools face, he didn't expect that response. Huh. Serves him right. I do have a spark after all. And then he asked if we could be friends again!

And to my everlasting patheticness I agreed, I shook his hand (it was nice and warm at the time). Maybe it was because I was so needy after my talk with Skyfire, but I did it. I feel like a grade A idiot. He's gonna shoot me with his fusion cannon as soon as I make a suggestion about anything relating to battle plans or anything I just know it.

* * *

_Day Seven – During 'meet the humans'_

* * *

Finally! Some hilarity to my day!

And also something disturbing. I mean…_Thunderblast_ and _Shockwave_ bonded together? Did we step into an alternate universe or something?

But I do have to admit it's hilarious. Especially the look on Megatrons face! Ha! I wouldn't of been surprised if he had purged on the spot. I bet his processor gave him some very…interesting images about those two. I had to laugh. I mean, everyone knew that Thunderblast is a bit loose, but to go back to a fling? Especially Shockwave of all mechs!

But Megatron told me it was Shockwave's fault. He tried the virus on Thunderblast. Well, wake up and smell the high grade Shockie old chap, it works!

Haha, I amuse myself too easily sometimes. My days are being a bit easier now. I have my lab to work with and I am trying out a hundred new ideas I haven't had the time to formulate. It's good to know that, although I am a femme, my processing power remains the same.

I wonder what their sparkling will be like…messed up, no doubt.

And speaking of sparklings, I know why Soundwave and Slipstream have been on the down low. I can't reveal everything here, but suffice to say that Slipstream's virus is gone too, and she is now determined to extinguish the sparks. Soundwave told me of his plan for the three sparklings. I don't like it, but it's tactically brilliant if we are to keep the sparklings (not to mentions their creators and carriers) safe. As I said, I don't like it…but come on, who better than the Autobots to hide the sparklings from Slipstream's clutches?

* * *

**A/N: CLIFFHANGER! I bet you'll want to know what that's all about huh? Well, in the next two chapters, all will be revealed. The next one is Soundwave, and Slipstreams. Slipstream's won't be overly pleasant, just a word of warning. I hope you liked this chapter from Starscream's perspective. I know I cut some bits out from the 'Megatron' chapter, but I thought that you guys wouldn't want to read the WHOLE scene again. REVIEWS ARE LOVED!**


	26. Decepticon Diaries: Soundwave

**A/N: When I mention a new day, I will put the chapter title that the Autobots went through (eg, Jazzman begins) so you can understand the sequence of days better. THIS IS IMPORTANT! Or else you will be like 'huh?' at some points. It will be the same layout for chapter after this one, and then after that it will be normal. YOU ALL KNOW THE DISCLAIMERS! I wish I owned Transformers.**

* * *

**Of Femmes and Sparklings – Chapter 26 – Decepticon Diaries: Soundwave**

* * *

_Day One: After 'Aftermath'_

* * *

It is hard being a mech with a little family of symbiots sometimes – especially in the middle of a war. In the privacy of our quarters away from the rest of the Decepticons, they like to be like regular younglings. Playful, loud and utterly carefree. Unfortunately, it just gives me the worst processor ache on top of what transpired in regard to events of my day. Right now, Rumble and Frenzy are at it again over who cheated in their latest 'Need for Speed' game. They both do, so I don't see why they fight. Ratbat is chattering noisily to Laserbeak while Buzzsaw is taunting Ravage, who is trying to give me some peace and slip into recharge.

But I don't have the spark to stop them. Regardless of what acts we have ever performed in the name of the Decepticon cause, we are a family.

Again, I don't have the spark to tell them why I am not involving myself in their games. Home, I don't have to use my monotonic voice modulator, and it delights my younglings to no end. But tonight, I've said not a word, other than to Ratbat who had chattered at me. All I did say was, "Papa is tired little one."

It is things like these that we keep hidden. Close to our sparks. Not one mech truly knows of how we relate to one another and how close-knit we are. Barricade suspects, he is too shrewd a mech not to, but he keeps quiet, in exchange for me not performing telepathic tasks on him. It's a good compromise as we both get something out of it.

Today…well, nothing much surprises me anymore, being a telepath. It was the first time in a long time that I had been surprised. It's rather embarrassing that Megatron was there to witness my ungraceful offlining from shock. But it's not every day you find out that the mech who is ranked above you in the SIC position happens to be turned into a femme overnight. I wouldn't have been able to see that twist coming even if it was in a book. Just the sight of him/her was enough to put my logic centre out of commission. Now I know what it is like to be the Autobot SIC Prowl. Would not wish that type of glitch on anyone.

Afkjblddf

Oh dear, Ravage made me mistype. He finally got angry enough to pounce at Buzzsaw. Naughty little mechlings. Maybe I should put them in their recharge slots now before they manage to get me.

...

Good, they're resting. They seemed more forlorn than usual, because I didn't engage in my nightly ritual of playing with them.

Being a telepath does have its advantages and disadvantages. The advantage is I can cater to the needs of the masses and I can also tell who is a spy (I used to try and figure out who was honest and who was not, but then I realised we are Decepticons. So now I just figure out who is betraying the cause). However, if I'm not filtering carefully enough, my processor gets filled with the wants and desires of all the mechs and femmes on base, including dirty little secrets. I know, for instance, that the second before his processor realised it was Starscream, that Megatron had looked at the femme in front of him as strikingly gorgeous. I also know how Hook really feels about this war. I respect him for that. I also know that there is nothing in Slipstream but an all consuming blackness for war and power. And for that matter, I know that Flamewar, Shadow Striker and Slipstream herself are infected with the virus.

And…as much as it disturbs me to note this down, both Flamewar and Shadow Striker are both vigorously trying with their partners to be rid of the virus. Note: Must remind crew to try and shield their thoughts during interfacing. At the end of the day I'm tired and can't filter as well as normal.

But what disgusts me about the situation is not that the Autobot femmes retaliated (I rather applaud them actually, it was quite ingenious), but Slipstream's insistence that they must terminate the sparkling orbs.

It disgusts me. I, being a split-spark, have never terminated any of my symbiots when their own sparks budded off mine, and I have never seen a reason to do so. Megatron and I have an agreement. As long as they are relatively well behaved with the general crew, I do not have to terminate any of my sparklets.

But for Slipstream to insist and order that of her femmes? It makes my tank turn, and I am guilty of many things that are just as vile and degrading, as shameful as it is to admit, but that was in my duty as TIC of the Decepticons.

I hate this. I must do something to protect the unborn.

Starting tomorrow.

* * *

_Day Two - During 'Jazzman Begins'_

* * *

My day did not go as planned. At all. I'm actually in Slipstream's quarters right now, in the middle of the night, and my chestplates and spark _ache_. To be crass, I'm very _fragged off_. But if there is a silver lining, it's that Slipstream will not be carrying her virus sparkling. I am.

Let's re-cap shall we? (Oh dear. Ravage says it's always a bad sign if I start being sarcastic).

Woke up, and was in the communications centre alone drinking my morning energon, enjoying the scant peace without my family in the early of the morning and reclining in my chair. I adore my little mechs, but last night they were taxing. The door opened and closed, and I heard the sound of slow, deliberate footsteps behind me. I quickly sent out a mental net and found out who it was. Slipstream. But her thoughts were frenzied and I couldn't grasp the concept of what she was thinking at that moment.

"Good morning Soundwave," she greeted smoothly. I gave a mental cringe at her voice.

"Morning. Slipstream: has query?"

She leant over me from behind, and although I couldn't see her, I could feel her smirk. I gave no reaction. She answered, "Yes, I suppose you could say it's a query, although it intends to be more of a demand…would you be able to help me out?"

Why did Megatron not kill her earlier in our lives?

"Perhaps. Query: what is nature of demand?" I asked. Little did I know it would seal my doom.

She stalked around to face me, arms akimbo and a sinister grin on her face. I could tell she was pleased by the pleased faint fluttering of her wings. She leant forward, closer to my faceplates than I would have liked (thank Primus for visors and masks) and said, "I have my cousins virus. I need you to bond with me so I can get all my systems functioning again. By tomorrow as I have patrol, and DO NOT want the mechs on this base to know of my condition."

I had stiffened at the time. "Demand: denied."

Her smile vanished and she snarled instead, "I have no qualms about taking one of your little _servants_ and deactivating them one by one until you do this. And you won't try and kill me first, because if you do, they will put you in the brig and there will be no-one to look after your pathetic band of mechlings. Deal?"

I was in a rage, and I lashed out with my mind, taking her neural circuits and squeezing them internally. I didn't like that she was right. I wouldn't deactivate her because of that, but I put her through mental pain like she had never had come against before. She was screaming soundlessly, mouth open grotesquely as I continued my torture. It gave me the pleasure of knowing that I was more powerful than her sick mind. When I released her from my mental clutches, I said in my toneless modulated voice, "Demand: granted. Query: Why Soundwave?"

She didn't answer me for a while, still trying to recover from my mental attack. Under my mask I smirked. She deserved it for her comments about my family.

"I (cough) heard that split-sparks were easier to break a bond with. I know you are a split spark, so the idea worked," she finally choked out, still affected by my mental tampering.

"Query: Are you going to terminate the creation?"

She snorted at me, "Of course. I am not going to be this pathetic little breeder. Be there tonight at my quarters at 7pm Soundwave."

Before she could leave I called out, "Suggestion: let me take on the spark."

She scoffed at me, "Mechs aren't built to be carriers, femmes are. Whatever."

"Answer: is incorrect. Soundwave: is a split spark as mentioned. Able to take on a sparkling orb if the femme is not able or does not want to do so during bonding. Soundwave: Would like to keep the sparkling orb," I stated, hoping that she would agree. I was not going to let such a thing be destroyed on the whims of an unstable femme.

She waved her hand about and said, "Whatever. Just tell me how to 'push it toward to you' tonight. I just don't give a flying asteroid in space about the orb."

She left, and I felt hollow in the pit of my spark. Breaking a bond is reported to be painful. It seemed pointless to bond with someone you don't even like and then breaking it to cause mass amounts of pain. If one broke a bond early in its forming, it wouldn't deactivate the participant. Once it got to a few months, then it usually deactivates the partner. Medics don't know about this myth, and if they do, they don't tell bonded couples just in case they want to try it without medical help.

After the duties of today (and hearing the amusing tale of Starscream melting half of Motormasters face) I crept into Slipstream's quarters, leaving my symbiots locked in our quarters. They were not happy, but I want to keep them away from all this until I can tell them. The black femme was reclining on her berth filing her claws to make sure that they were in good condition. She looked up and smirked at me as I entered.

"Evening Soundwave. Ready to get this over with?" Ew (yes, I am acting like Frenzy, but I believe it's a little justified), she had purred that at me.

Instead of bolting back out the door, I said nothing, but sat at the side of the berth. I'd let her take control, because this is not my situation to control. She sat up next to me and asked, "So, what do you mean with this 'pushing towards your spark' thing?"

"Explaination: Split sparks originally created to bond with femmes or mechs who could not reproduce and could not receive an Allspark sparkling – split sparks could take on the essence of the partner to make the sparkling orb. In practice: Femme or mech intends her systems not to take on orb. This must be felt through the spark with all determination," I answer, giving the bare essentials. It was all she needed to know, I was sure she would have no problem using her resentment to push the sparkling onto my spark.

She nodded, scarlet optics dimming a little before she demanded, "Open up then. Let me get this over with."

I sighed.

We did it so clinically, the bonding. Open up, put sparks together, push your essence toward mine, break bond and offline in pain from breaking the connection.

It hurt. It hurt much more than the splitting of spark with my mechlings. And because we did not like each other, the bonding and breaking of it was much worse than under normal circumstances (that is, I imagine). But I am assured now. This life will not be terminated, I will not allow it. Slipstream is offline beside me. I am just letting my systems get to full capacity, so I have decided to type this down now.

I am ready and my systems have finally healed enough for me to leave. I am leaving her quarters, and I hope I never have to see these walls ever again.

* * *

_Day Three - During 'Gladiators and Healing Sparks'_

* * *

I actually asked for a day off. I went through Starscream though, not Megatron. He would actually check on me. Starscream is actually decent, believe it or not. She's actually somewhat accepted by my little family, for on Cybertron when I was away, Megatron would order him (her) to look after my mechlings. It's an apt choice. Cybertronian's forget that Seekers and most other fliers have very strong parental programming, and can be protective of any young. So Starscream told me that I could be relieved from my duties for as long as I liked. Especially with the truce. A month of peace that will not last.

Needless to say, my symbiots are overjoyed.

I haven't taken a day off in a long time.

The last time I took a day for myself is when I underestimated Jazz's talents in creating viruses for Teletraan on Cybertron. An orn of purging everything I consumed was not fun at all. At least my little mechs are competent enough to look after me. They have a system. Frenzy and Rumble try to find things to entertain me, Buzzsaw runs any errands, Laserbeak is in charge of getting everyone refuelled, Ravage looks after my systems and anything medical and Ratbat acts as a rather large cuddle toy for me. It works wonderfully each time and I'm back to full functioning capacity within the next day.

But not this time. No, I believe it's going to take at least one more day before I even think of doing anything strenuous.

But I remind myself it is all worth it. If I can save this one life from termination, then it is worth it.

* * *

_Day Four – During 'Party'_

* * *

Buzzsaw delivered some interesting news to me. Apparently he heard Shadow Striker sobbing in her quarters as he flew past. He investigated the cause and discovered that Slipstream has reminded her of the order to terminate her new spark. Skywarp's mate is distraught, and for good reason. Most femmes have protocols in their coding that is very maternal in nature and makes them protective. Furthermore, if a femme or mech bonds with a seeker, the bonded party finds it virtually impossible to do something that will hurt a sparkling, even if it is not their own.

So it is difficult for Shadow Striker to go through. I do not blame her or Flamewar (who has apparently locked herself in her quarters) for their reactions.

It seems that Slipstream is missing a few lines of coding and maternal protocols if she is insisting on this. If only we could…

No.

It would be treason…it's an utterly ridiculous idea that could get us all killed and yet…it would save the sparklings. I know that the two femmes will hate it, but it's the only chance we have if we actually want them to online and experience life. I may have killed many, but that does not mean that I don't want new life to come about. There is a need for sacrifices, and this is not one of them.

I need to plan it out a little more, to contact the femmes and their mates, to come up with a good reason for leaving base, I must create my sparkling protoform and…

Above all, I must not tell anyone else who is not fully involved, even my cassettes, what I am about to do. I was going to tell them about my situation, but I must lie instead, for their future half-siblings protection. But the thought of seeing it come to life as its own being thrills me.

I had planned on getting a bondmate of my own before a full sparkling came along (after the war ended). Looks like it will occur in reverse order.

* * *

_Day Five- During 'Mother Nature'_

* * *

It's been tiring trying to implement such an outrageous plan while one is situatied on their berth, but I have managed it. I wish it wasn't the only way, but Slipstream has been uncommonly insistent about terminating the sparks. I have encouraged both Flamewar and Shadow Striker to lie and tell her that it has been done.

Thundercracker, Flamewar, Skywarp and Shadow Striker have heartily agreed to my plan. It seems they share my stance on the fact that this is risk to be taken. They have assured me that they will work on the protoform designing using the software I made them download onto a datapad (although they do not know the gender yet, they are creating one for a femme and one for a mech and for the build they think their sparkling will have).

You see, my plan is this: we give our sparkling to the Autobots.

It sounds crazy and I feel treasonous just thinking about what I have done, but I believe that what Slipstream has done is more treasonous. Because of her actions, our sparklings have to grow up with our enemy.

But we have agreed. The Autobots have more resources than we do, it is a surety that their tanks will be full, they will be protected, and that they will be cared for, if not loved. We would rather our sparklings live with the enemy, than be destroyed for the selfish reasons of a blackmailer and a backstabber. We have also decided which Autobots we would prefer to look after our individual creations. Thundercracker chose Skyfire – he knew Starscream when Starscream was good friends with Skyfire (therefore he knew Skyfire a little bit), and believes that the shuttle will be a good creator figure. Shadow Striker chose her sister, Roulette. And I…have chosen Blaster.

And not because he, like me, is a split spark and would understand. It is part of it, but the main reason why is because, when we were young, a long time before we became mature mechs, we lived in the same street in Iacon and our creators were good friends. We had become good friends as well. Blaster and I go 'way back' the terminology is. Of course, the war ruined everything. Such a pity really.

Ravage is suspicious. As the oldest of my mechlings, he worries for me when I'm overly silent around them. I must be careful not to reveal that they are expecting another sibling. It break my spark that I cannot tell them.

* * *

_Day Six – During 'New Sensation'_

* * *

I am back on duty but there is really nothing more to do since we have three weeks more of this odd truce (truthfully, I am enjoying it). Instead, I spent all day creating the design specs for my sparkling.

Another fact that most Cybertronians don't know about split-sparks. They can tell the gender and design of their sparkling or symbiot without medical interference.

So I have been working all day for a design for a femme flyer.

It feels so different from when I have designed the prototypes for my little mechlings. To actually be drawing a body that will become a fully formed body for the first time is an interesting experience. I am not putting one ounce of any characteristic of Slipstream's in her, save for the basic Seeker frame with wings. I might as well describe her. She is going to be a bright navy with a black helm, hands and pedes, with a white (not clear) glassed cockpit. Her faceplate will be grey and she will have amber optics. The only other splash of colour is a stripe on each of her wings and two bands on each of her upper arms – these will be a bright silver.

Her name is derived out of Ratbat's favourite human books- he is inexplicably attached to fantasy reading – the Eragon series. On our down time I read those books to my cassettes and have chosen a name from a place in the book.

Isenstar.

Yes, in the book it's a lake, but I think it will mean so much more. And she looks like an Isenstar. Like the rest of my little mechlings, the names took shape in my head without me having to think too hard about them. The datapad is next to me on my berth, and I look at the protoform and I have to smile. She's beautiful. With luck, she will prosper with the Autobots, as much as it pains me to let my own creation go.

* * *

_Day Seven – During 'Meet the humans'_

* * *

Starscream knew something was going on. She came to me and asked me what was going on. I had to tell her, as this concerns her trinemates and also because (I hate to say this, but in all technicality) she is my superior. And because since turning into a femme she's mellowed slightly, and because she has looked after my cassettes before.

On another note: I must mention how _odd_ it is for me to be talking to Starscream as a femme. I'm so used to her as a mech.

Anyway, I told her of the plan. She agreed with my reasoning and has promised not to tell Megatron. She said bluntly that she didn't like it, but she acknowledged that it was the only way without letting the rest of the Army and Megatron be privy to our situation. It must be kept secret until one side wins the war, or if the Autobots are putting our sparklings in more danger. Megatron has confirmed that I am permitted to go scout for energon for raids when the month of truce is up. But what I am really doing is going to the Autobot base to negotiate for our sparklings protection once they are ready.

Starscream is going to be a decoy just in case.

I hope that all goes well. I do not want to expose my sparkling to my dark side of me that I like not to expose.

Isenstar…to your onlining I hope.

* * *

**A/N: Soundwave's a family man...er...mech XD Notice how I didn't put in the chapter before that Starscream actually gets along with Soundwave's kids? To keep you interested ;) Anyway, one more diary before we get back to the main body of the story. PLEASE REVIEW!**


	27. Decepticon Diaries: Slipstream

**A/N: When I mention a new day, I will put the chapter title that the Autobots went through (eg, Jazzman begins) so you can understand the sequence of days better. THIS IS IMPORTANT! Or else you will be like 'huh?' at some points. Also, as another side note, I know the update has been a long time coming, but I'm sorry it's so short. I had to do a lot of editing because I put in some really creepy stuff, almost worthy of a horror movie. It would have gone to M, and I didn't want that. I think I actually scared myself with it TT^TT. **

**YOU ALL KNOW THE DISCLAIMERS! I wish I owned Transformers.**

* * *

**Of Femmes and Sparklings – Chapter 27 – Decepticon Diaries: Slipstream**

* * *

_Day One: After 'Aftermath'_

* * *

I want to rage, to tear apart my enemies limb from limb and delight in their last cries, brought by my hands and nullrays.

But I'm stuck with writing in this stupid thing, when all I want to do is scream and rage, to make sure that no Autobot is left alive after what they did to me! And Starscream. Bloody idiot, he…she…should have known that they would get revenge for something as large a scale as that! Grah! My cousin is such an idiot! And what is his reward from being turned into a femme? She gets to be Seeker Regina…what I always wanted, but my spark coding has not changed once since my adulthood. And my aerial commander who was a mech, turns into a femme, and gets it.

I am always getting the short end when it comes to Starscream.

Might as well write some 'feelings' here (like I need them as a warrior). Starscream was always been glorified by our familial sect within Vos before the war. Fastest flier, brilliant processor, yada yada yada. I makes me so angry.

But I am civil to him/her. Because when she was a he, he would never flaunt it in my face, no matter how much I hated it.

But enough about the flying idiot. I HAVE TO MAKE A FRAGGING SPARKLING! I hate the Autobot femmes. How could they do this to me? I don't want a mech, any mech at all. It goes against what I believe, and I will not stoop to a level of a mech. Femmes are far superior. And last of all I want is a **sparkling!** It goes against every fibre of my being, to become a disgusting little breeder, popping little sparks out of my own that grow into energon snot nosed, screaming, wailing pieces of scrap!

Shadow Striker and Flamewar should thank me when they get rid of their little problems. I am saving them from a lifetime of being depended upon.

I need to get rid of this virus NOW! No sparkling shall be brought by…

…

Soundwave.

He's my solution.

He's a split spark! As a commander, I know of his unique condition. That means I can break my bond with him without it killing us! YES! AHAAHAHA! Oh the elation! I have beaten my adversaries before the poison can take effect! HA!

And yes, while I might not exactly like the monotone fragger, I'm sure he will see things my way if I use a few well placed threats, or use a play on words. I'm sure he will do anything to stop me getting my talons on those (urgh) little brats. Ah, maybe I can actually pull rank for once…that would be a heady rush to my systems.

And then, once he bond is broken, I will use my spark energy to extinguish that disgusting budding sparklet.

Victory is mine!

* * *

_Day two – During 'Jazzman Begins'_

* * *

Soundwave has just left my quarters, just as I was booting up. Good. It would be unwise for him to wake next to me in the morning.

What good news! I went to Mr. Monotone earlier today and demanded and threatened him, and he came through. At least I don't have an aberration growing off my spark. Soundwave took my spark energy and made the sparkling bud onto his spark. Oddly, he wants the sparkling. Why? Because he has a lack of intimacy he fills the void with pathetic little brats? Doesn't he have enough? Six brats boring him? Bah, shouldn't care really. I don't have to bear a sparkling anymore, thank Primus!

I can fly again, I can transform, all my plating is back. As far as I'm concerned life has just gotten much better.

Can't say the same for Starscream. It was rather entertaining though, to hear that Motormaster got his face slagged. I can't tell who's the bigger idiot. Motormaster or Starscream. At least the Stunticon leader has a slight excuse. It's in his med records that he has a glitch that goes haywire around femmes. Everyone thinks he's horny…I think it's such good entertainment.

* * *

_Day three – During 'Gladiators and Healing Sparks'_

* * *

I better lay low the next few days.

Because I was feeling so happy over the fact I have no virus anymore, I told Motormaster where Starscream was going to be today. In the lower weapons lockers doing inventory. I thought it would have been a good bit of gossip and also a chance to make fun of Motormaster's idiocy. I didn't think that I meant for him to get his gestalt so he could have his way with my _dear_ Seeker cousin.

Hence, why I need to be invisible to the command structure so I can find a way to make sure that Stunticon buffoon doesn't tell Megatron that I was the one to tell where Starscream was. Only those in higher rank have full access to schedules. I am higher rank. Technically, Motormaster should not have been near there. At the time I just didn't care. The only reason I care about what I said now is because I might be bringing the wrath of Megatron on my helm.

Apparently he went nuts when he saw Motormaster trying to have his wicked way with Starscream (hah, I wonder how high her decibels would have reached if he _had_).

And I would rather my wings intact.

Not that Megatron's ever hit us femmes before, but I don't want to tempt him. I had a peek at the Stunticon team. Frankly, they look like twice-recycled slag.

At least I have one thing to be joyous about. I AM NOT A SPARKLING BREEDER!

Now if only I could get a way to ban these stupid journal things for good. They suck. But oh so perfect Mr. Monotone recommended them. Psh. What does he know? Him and those stupid little brats of his. Spying, making sure that he's loyal to our great leader. I may be slightly indebted to him because he got rid of my virus, but he's such a kiss-aft I'm surprised that he doesn't keep himself glued there. Real loyalty does not come that way, it comes from following the leader's belief and plans. Unlike, for example, my pathetic cousin Starscream.

* * *

_Day Four – During 'Party'_

* * *

Those ungrateful femmes who I command. How dare they go against my orders? Well, they've asked, not attempted at least. But how dare they ask that I reverse what I have already said and sticking to? They should be THANKING ME, the little ungrateful wretches. Because of my orders, they don't have to spark a little, wailing piece of scrap that will burden the entire army! They don't have to stop being themselves – that is, they don't have to stop being true Decepticon warriors!

That ditzy little wannabe sharp shooter Shadow Striker!

What does she do? Waltz into my quarters and ask if I don't mind if she goes against orders and keeps the sparklet.

"Orders are orders, of course I mind!" I had said.

And then she goes, with this pathetic little frown, "But I should be able to keep as it as it as my and my new bondmates. Slipstream, I thought you were joking when you issued those orders. Surely if we take care of it properly and carefully, it should be fine."

I swear, my optics should have burnt a red hole in her from the force of my glare. I snarled at her, "You think of keeping that sparkling, and once it's sparked, I'll make sure that it has a little _accident_. It's more painful that way, to see it come to life and then taken from you. Sparklings are a nuisance and will keep you from doing your duty. And we will _not_ bow to social mores and let mechs spark us. Remember? We ARE NOT breeders…" I would have laughed at the grief-stricken expression on her faceplates if I had not been trying to be threatening, "…now…GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!"

My bellowing screech was enough to have her dash out of my quarters, and I sniffed disdainfully as I heard her let out a sob. Good, maybe it'll get through her processor.

It was a horrible start to the day, until I got cheered up by the patheticness of Starscream. I was making sure I was alone in any hallway as I walked around base, but I couldn't help but notice that Starscream was following Megatron around for most of the day. She had this weak, confused little expression on those horridly pretty faceplates. Hah, I should have known she would have been trying to suck up to our leader after that 'little incident' yesterday. It's amazingly pathetic. Regardless of whether she was a mech and is now a femme, I want to scream at her '_Stop being such a polish rag, you're a Decepticon!'_

Urgh, it's mad.

* * *

_Day Five_ _– During 'Mother Nature'_

* * *

Finally, Flamewar came to me and told me quietly in a corner of the rec-room that my orders have been carried out. Slag, but those femmes were stubborn, but at least my orders have been carried out. Good. No more talk of sparklings. They are extinguished and nothing more needs to be said about them. Both irritating femmes have a possible mission that needs approval for a mission in a few days with Soundwave, which means they are back to their warrior capacity. It is both a relief for me. Without our warrior capacity, the Decepticon femmes has no claim to being those warriors.

It's what I have always been taught.

It is the pride of being a Seeker, to be strong and graceful. The warrior within was something that was enforced into my training. Look where it has gotten me! I am the femme commander of the Decepticon army, a position enviable of all femmes everywhere.

My mentor – I can't remember my creator and carrier (like it matters) – was the one to impart this into me. He was a lieutenant before the war, who was as strict with his mechs as our great leader Megatron is with his men. He even applied that brand of discipline to me (my mentor, not Megatron, he hasn't touched any of the femmes). His favourite punishment was to drop me from a bit off the ground to test the strength of my thrusters. The distance was usually too short for my thrusters to kick in, but long enough to hurt.

But then again, I know that punishments are only given to those who deserve it.

And besides, the only time that I was hurt bad enough was when…

Frag, I have duty.

* * *

_Day Six – During 'New Sensation'_

* * *

Huh…base is quiet. It's so weird.

All the commanders are absent (which means it's safer for me to walk the halls – Megatron is reportedly still pissed about Motormaster's attempted rape), and the rest of the mechs are doing their own things.

Actually, I amend my former statement. I can hear the giggles of Soundwave's twin terrors, and I can hear the cackle of Mixmaster as he plays with the chemicals in his lab, and the shuffling of feet throughout the halls. But not the usual rowdy talk of the mechs in the rec-room, no powerful footsteps of Megatron as he makes sure everything is in order. There is no clang of metal and metal – there's no one in the training room, practising and sparring. There's no sound of the discharge or guns…

…the silence means I think deeply.

I don't think deeply.

In fact, that gunfire that is usually around reminds me of my mentor. I remember writing about his worst punishment. Again, I deserved it. I was reckless in flying lesson the day earlier, and so he used his favourite punishment on me. But this time, instead of the usual dented wing or snapped leg strut, I landed on my helm. The next thing I remember after that, was that the accident made my processor delete some coding, but my mentor said it was nothing serious. And it must not have been, for I function like a normal Seeker femme.

Although there was something mentioned about Seeker parental protocols...

Bah! I think it was my imagination. Why would I have such coding as that in the first place? It's ridiculous. As ridiculous as the femmes under me wanting to keep their sparkling. We don't need them, especially during the war. And that is my final word.

* * *

_Day Seven – During 'Meet the Humans'_

* * *

GRAHHHH! I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF THESE SLAGGING SLUDGING POINTLESS DRIVE IT TO PIT **JOURNALS!**

Honestly, why do I have to spend time everyday trying to impart some sort of self therapy? Soundwave is an idiot. Decepticon therapy composes of going out onto the shooting range, sparring room or battlefield until you prove you are the best or have another's energon running through your fingertips, knowing that you are dominant and have won over their weak and pathetic attempts to beat you. THAT is good for mental health.

It's good for mine.

And it will be further good for me once I get that black and orange femme with the funny blue marking on her face back. Oh, I will squeeze her throat cables and relish in her screams as she cries out for her little Autobot friends. She injected me…she will pay, and pay dearly.

Now, as for this journal datapad. I don't care if Mr. Monotone thinks that we need them, I don't give a frag what he thinks and he can go rot in pit with that thing inside his chest. Now, what shall I do first? Shoot this thing? Dip it in acid? Stomp on it, shatter the glass and erase all the recorded incidents? Free myself of this accursed little thing in any way possible…

…starting now….-kzzt-.

* * *

**A/N: Did you miss me? Yes, I know it's been AGES since I updated, but my holidays have been over since I last submitted, meaning lots and lots of work for me, both uni and my job. I think that everyone understands. BUT I'D STILL LOVE YOUR REVIEWS! I think the next chapter won't be out for a little while, so bear with me! And also, I hope I captured the insanity of Slipstream, while providing a part reason for this. **


	28. Author's goodbye

**a/n:**

**Ok guys. This is really hard to say and do. But I have to do it. I thank all of my wonderful reviewers for their reviews and for their time in reading my story. I said I would complete it. The sad news is, it never will be, and for that, I'm sorry. And because of circumstances beyond my control, I no longer have the time or the motivation to do my fanfictions. Nothing horrible's happened. It's just me and my screwed up issues. I will be better in time. We all get better in time, and I have complete confidence in that.**

**I will still love Transformers. It's still big for me.**

**But the show cannot go on, and I will no longer be returning to writing fanfictions. I will leave up my three TF stories, but everything else is deleted. I had hoped to finish it, there were so many places the story was going to go in my head. I say again: I am sorry :(**

**Please do not question my cousin about this. She has no clue. I've pretended that I'm fine, so this will be the first indication. I'll probably go talk to her (Darkeyes17) after I post this.**

**You guys have been wonderful.**

**Signing off for the last time...**

**...Midnight**


End file.
